All That Remains
by Lady Alinor
Summary: As if having your parents killed by Death Eaters and finding out at fourteen that you're a witch aren't lifechanging events, try living with a Metamorphagus, having a Werewolf for a tutor, and not knowing who your blood parents are. That's me. 5th yr, AU.
1. Prologue

**All That Remains** by _GinnyP0tter_

Rating: T

Summary: She had it all, before the Death Eater attack that killed her parents. Suddenly she's told she's magical and is shipped off to Hogwarts to learn magic. But what dark secrets about her true past lie behind the castle walls?

A/N: This is my very first OC story, and I will start out by saying that Libby is of no relation to Harry Potter or Severus Snape as some have guessed in reviews. I try not to write clichéd stories, and the Harry Potter has a twin stories are in my mind the very definition of "cliché."

_Prologue_

It started out as a normal day. My alarm clock rang at six-thirty and I finally pulled myself out of bed three snoozes later. After a quick shower, I brushed my unruly hair, pulled it back into a knot, and slipped into my school uniform. As I turned to leave the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I don't like my face. It's too pale for my dark hair, and my cheekbones stick out. My eyes are the same color as my hair—brown. Plain old me. Plain Elizabeth.

If you think I let my friends call me Elizabeth, you're crazy. I go by Libby; it's much shorter and doesn't sound so old-fashioned.

Anyway, I suddenly realized I was going to be late if I didn't step up the pace a bit. I ran back to my room and grabbed my school bag before racing to the kitchen. The school bus usually stopped by around seven twenty-five, so I figured I still had time to gulp down some food.

Mum was sitting at the table, talking on the phone with one of her co-workers. Dad was reading the paper, and didn't look up when I entered. Mom mouthed "Hi, sweetheart," and went back to her phone conversation while I grabbed a banana and a slice of toast. Gotta watch those calories.

Then I heard the beep of the school bus. "Bye Mum, Dad," I said quickly, and started for the door. Mum caught my sleeve as I went by, and pulled me back, sternly pointing to her cheek.

"Awwww… Mum… I'm not a little kid anymore!" I protested, but she persisted, and I finally bent down and gave her a kiss.

I started for the door again, but she pointed at my father. I complied and gave him a kiss as well, knowing it'd be faster than arguing. "Thanks, honey," he muttered, distracted by the paper. I headed for the door once again.

"Oh, Mum?" I called, skidding to a stop on the mat. "I'm spending the night at Kylie's tonight."

"OK, sweetie. I love you," she mouthed, winking at me.

* * *

School was normal too. I gave an oral report on Macbeth in my literature class. I got sent to the principle's office for hitting Stewart Temple during our study period, though I didn't do it. In chemistry class my beaker exploded when I added the wrong acid. Oops. 

And did I mention that Landon kissed me? In a janitorial closet! Not exactly the most romantic place in the world, but hey, you've got to give the guy credit for courage. I'll admit that it wasn't the most romantic snog in the world, either—we bumped noses too many times for that—but I wasn't complaining.

After school, Kylie's mom picked us up and took us shopping. Mum and Dad aren't rich, but they do give me some spending money each month. Kylie and I tried on clothes for a while before getting bored. I bought the red sweater I'd fallen in love with and we headed to her house to make popcorn and watch old movies and gossip.

Three Star Wars movies later, I was exhausted. The next day was Saturday, so I didn't have school, but I had promised Mrs. Lowell I'd babysit her kids starting at nine. Kylie and I fell asleep whispering about our latest conquests in the world of boys: Landon Price and Bobby Wilcox.

When I awoke, it was half past seven. Kylie was still asleep, and I knew she would most likely sleep through the morning and into the afternoon. Darn Mrs. Lowell… I really wanted to go back to bed, but I knew that Kylie's mum wouldn't be awake yet, meaning I'd need to walk back to my neighbourhood. I quickly dressed, gathered my things, and left, but not before leaving Kylie's mom a note as to where I'd gone.

I'd walked to and from Kylie's house many times before, so I knew where I was going. The morning was bright and sunny, the sky a perfect blue. The birds were singing brightly, and all around me the neighbourhood was awakening. Yawning teenagers were rubbing sleep out of their eyes and pulling rusty lawnmowers out of garages. Plump old ladies sporting wide-brimmed hats were emerging from their homes armed with gardening tools. I even saw a few haggard mums dragging their sleepy kids into their vehicles heading for various sports games.

I waved to one elderly man who had been my first grade teacher quite a few years ago. He smiled and waved back, on his way to pick up the Saturday paper.

My house was only a few blocks away. I turned on another street and was surprised to see a commotion at the end of it. Was that a police car? Someone was putting up barriers across the road.

"I'm sorry, miss, you can't get through," a stern looking officer told me when I reached the yellow fence.

"But I live there!" I replied frantically, trying to see past him. My house was still hidden from view. "What happened?"

"You live in one of those houses?" the officer inquired with a strange expression on his face. "Miss, I think you'd better come with me."

"No! I want to know what happened!" I cried, stepping away from him. "What's going on?"

He looked helplessly at me, then pointed upwards. I followed his finger.

High above the houses, a hideous green skull hung in the sky. I'd never seen anything like it before in my life. The mouth had a snake coming out of it. I was suddenly filled with dread and horror. "No," I said again, stepping back again. "No, no, no, no, no, no…."

"Miss, I'll have to ask you co come with me!" the man said, stepping toward me again, but I turned and ran. I dashed down the sidewalk, into a sidestreet, and through someone's lawn. I cut through their back yard and jumped a fence, not caring who saw me, not caring if I was caught… Sometime during my flight, my bag slipped off my shoulder and was left behind.

Finally, I was through the police barrier. I ran the last block, hardly seeing the destruction all around me… several homes were destroyed. One looked as if it'd been burned to the ground. My house was still standing and I dashed up the stairs to the porch.

One of the policemen had noticed me. "You can't go in there," he yelled, running down the street towards my house, but I paid him no heed. My front door was open, but that barely registered.

The house was completely silent. "Mum? Dad?" I shouted. "Mum! Dad!"

I ran from room to room. The lower level of the house was empty. I headed up the stairs, just as I heard a policeman coming through the front door.

When I got to their room, I skidded to a stop at the doorway, frozen in horror. Mum and Dad were lying on the floor, dead. Their eyes were open, and their faces had terrified expressions, expressions that were in that instant etched in my mind forever.

I screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed some more.

All the windows in the house simultaneously shattered.

**A/N: **Random idea for a story that just recently came to me. If you'd like me to continue, say so in a review! I've always wanted to write a story about going to Hogwarts from a Muggle's point of view.


	2. Meeting Tonks

"Miss, can you explain to me what happened?"

I was tired, hungry, and confused. I was trying to deal with the death of the only parents I'd ever known. And this stupid guy kept asking me the same question again and again.

"I told you. There was this big green skull with a snake coming out of its mouth hanging over my neighborhood. I found my parents dead on the floor of their bedroom. And then all the windows shattered."

He looked at me over the top of an odd pair of spectacles. "All the windows…just… shattered."

I sighed. "You heard me the first time."

"You don't know why they shattered?"

"No."

The room I was sitting in was white. Too white. The middle-aged man questioning me was dressed in a brown pair of slacks and blue blazer. His purple tie didn't match at all; neither did the bowler hat he wore, for that matter. I wondered how he'd ever gotten a job with such a bad sense of fashion.

They'd been questioning me for some time now. I just wanted to go home… but then I dully remembered that I had no home now. I wondered if Kylie would let me live with her for a few days while I figured out what I was going to do.

I couldn't remember much from that morning. I remembered screaming, hearing the windows shattering, and being afraid that the policeman was going to come take me away.

But the policeman never reached me. Instead, I found myself being confronted by two people in black robes, holding strange sticks in my face. I wasn't coherent. I was still sobbing, but I remember a little of their conversation. They were trying to decide whether to "Obliviate" me or not. One, the woman with purple hair (I remember her vividly), was adamant that I had "magical" blood. I didn't understand. But then they ushered me out of the house and to a car. I didn't know where the car had taken me—I hadn't paid attention.

"Has anything like this ever happened to you before?" the man asked. He'd introduced himself as "Mr. Dawlish." Sounded suspicious to me.

I sighed. "No. It hasn't."

He looked at me oddly. "Nothing strange? Things you couldn't explain?"

"No."

"You're not lying?"

I glared at him. "What reason would I have to lie to you?"

"No reason at all," Dawlish said smoothly. I stared pointedly at the wall.

Soon he left. When I couldn't hear his footsteps in the hall anymore, I put my head down on the table and cried.

Someone was gently shaking my shoulder. As I opened my eyes and sat up, looking blearily around the room, I realized that I'd fallen asleep on the table. The girl with purple hair was sitting next to me, a concerned look on her face.

"Are you OK?"

I wiped my streaked face on my sleeve. "I'm alright."

The girl sat back. "My name's Tonks," she said, holding out a hand. "What's yours?"

"I'm Libby," I said, warily taking her hand. "Where am I? What kind of name is Tonks?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's my last name, actually. You'd go by your surname too if your first name was Nymphadora."

I winced. "I'm sorry."

Tonks shrugged. "It's OK. Oh, and you're at the Ministry of Magic," she said, and I did a double take. I laughed.

"The Ministry of _what?_"

"Magic," she said, grinning brightly. "You heard me right. We're in London, actually."

"What is the Ministry of Magic?" I asked, wondering if I was on Candid Camera or something. But even Candid Camera couldn't have faked my parents' deaths like that.

"I'll tell you in a minute, but first I need to ask you some questions."

"Questions?"

"Yeah. Just a few. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but if you'll tell me what you know about what happened this morning, it will make my job a lot easier."

"OK," I said wearily, wondering if they had any food around this Ministry of Magic place.

Tonks seemed to read my mind. "Are you hungry?" she asked gently.

I nodded, and she left the room, only to return with a couple of sandwiches and a glass of orange-coloured juice. I glanced at it suspiciously.

"Don't worry, it's not poisned," Tonks reassured me. "It's just pumpkin juice. It's actually quite good."

I took her word for it and took a sip. It was good, kind of like pumpkin pie in a glass.

"Is Libby your full name?" Tonks asked me, and I shook my head.

"It's Elizabeth," I said distastefully. "Elizabeth Rivera. If you call me Elizabeth, though, I might have to hit you."

She laughed. "Ditto if you call me Nymphadora."

I relaxed a bit. This Tonks person wasn't like the Dawlish guy. Tonks was easier to like. She made me feel more comfortable, and I wasn't scared of her. Well, the fact that she was wearing normal clothes—jeans and a t-shirt that said "Aeropostale" on it—helped. A lot.

"Your parents," Tonks said, sobering. "The ones that died. Were they your birth parents."

I stared at her. How could she have known? "No," I said. "I was adopted when I was a baby."

She looked thoughtful. "Do you know who your blood parents were?"

I shook my head. "When Mum and Dad told me the truth, after I got over the shock, I wanted to find my blood parents, just out of curiosity. But the agency I'd been adopted through seemed to have vanished into thin air. Maybe they went out of business, or something."

Tonks was silent for a moment, then she smiled sadly at me. "I'm sorry."

I looked away. "It… it just doesn't feel real," I whispered.

She sighed. "Wait till you hear what I'm going to tell you next."

I glanced up. "Whatever it is, it can't be more shocking than seeing my parents dead."

"Actually…"

"What?"

Tonks gave me a long, calculated look. "Libby Rivera, you're a witch."

* * *

So there you have it. I'm a witch. In one day my entire life changed—my parents died, and I found out that I have magical powers. Whopee.

Of course I didn't believe the purple-haired freak at first. She finally had to lend me her wooden stick, which I found out was actually a wand.

"Wave it!" she encouraged.

Feeling stupid, I did. And I was flabbergasted when red sparks flew out the end and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I dropped the wand and jumped back.

"It's OK, that's normal!" Tonks said.

I narrowed my eyes. "And you can do stuff with this thing?"

"Almost anything. Do you want a demonstration?"

"Yeah."

Tonks picked up the wand, then screwed up her face in concentration and made some complicated movements. A second later the chair next to me turned into a large brown dog. It licked my hand and wagged its tail.

I stared. I probably looked like an idiot, my jaw hanging open. "And I can do that too?"

She smiled brightly. "Sure! Not on the first day, of course. Stuff like that is N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration. But you can do spells and everything just like me. Oh, you remember when the windows shattered?"

I nodded.

"That's called accidental magic. It happens when a witch or wizard is especially angry or emotional."

Something wasn't adding up. "I don't get it. I've been angry or emotional lots of times, but nothing like this ever happened before!"

Tonks shrugged. "I'm not sure either, actually. It's a mystery. If you were a witch at birth, you'd have automatically have been entered in Magical Birth Registry at Hogwarts. But you weren't, so…"

"What's Hogwarts?" I asked, interrupting her.

"It's the school for witches and wizards," she said patiently.

"So why is the magic stuff showing up now?" I said, intent on getting to the bottom of it.

"It's a mystery. Some of the Healers say that it must have been the shock which stimulated your previously-latent magical core. It's uncommon, but not unheard of for squibs to perform magic late in life. I mean, late as in past age eleven," she finished hastily as I glared at her. I was many things, but I wasn't about to be called "old" by someone ten years my elder.

I sat down again and slumped back in the chair. "So what do I do now?"

Tonks sobered. "You've got a couple of options, actually. One, you can be Obliviated and sent back to live with another family of Muggles."

I started to ask her what "Muggles" were, but she held up a hand. "Second, you can choose to begin your education in the Wizarding world. It'd take some tutoring to get you caught up to the fourth years at Hogwarts—you are fourteen, right?—but with intensive instruction I think it'd only take a few months to get you caught up in the basic subjects and then you could go to Hogwarts. It's a boarding school, so you'd be there ten months out of the year, and the other two you could live with a Wizarding family."

"Someone would let me stay with them?" I said doubtfully.

She smiled. "We take care of our own."

I considered my options. Dawlish had told me that "Obliviate" meant to erase someone's memories. I definitely didn't want to forget about all this, terrible as the last six hours had been. It all seemed surreal. A whole world of witches and wizards, unknown to the rest of Britain? It was almost too much to believe. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe I'd wake up tomorrow morning and Mum and Dad would be alive and none of this would have ever happened.

Then again, if this _was_ a dream, it couldn't hurt to take up Tonks on her offer. I sighed. Even if this wasn't a dream, I still didn't have anything to loose. In one morning my entire life had collapsed.

"I'll do it," I said tiredly.

"Good," Tonks said. "I promise you, you won't regret it."

I nodded, not ready to believe her quite yet. "So, where am I supposed to stay?"

"Well, I've been talking to the other Aurors," Tonks began hesitantly. "They don't have a Wizarding family in mind right now. I was thinking…well, you don't have to if you don't want too…but my apartment is big enough for two…"

I stared at her. "You barely know me! You're offering to let me live with you?"

Tonks pursed her lips. "I know it's strange, but there's something about you. Like I've met you before."

"That is a bit weird," I agreed.

"Is that a yes?"

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. "That's a yes."

**Author's Note: **Second chapter up! Sorry for the wait. Like I said on The World as We Knew It, I'm super super super busy this semester. I apologize for the Americanisms in this chapter… I'm not knowledgeable about the differences between the US and Britain.


	3. Reality Crashes Down

And so, I moved in with Nymphadora Tonks. That night she took me back to her flat by taxi. She claimed she didn't want to overwhelm me with Flooing or Apparating on the first day, whatever those terms meant. When we reached her apartment building, we took the stairs to the fifth floor ("I always take the stairs, it helps me keep in shape.")

Her flat was decorated in bright purples, pinks, and blues. It sure didn't look like the apartment of a twenty-six year old, that was for sure. It looked more like the room of a fourteen-year-old like me.

Tonks showed me my room, a guest room that was as brightly decorated as the rest of the flat. A light green comforter with yellow pillows adorned the single bed. The furniture was simple, and the curtains white.

"We can redecorate it if you want," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "I like bright colors, that's all."

"It's fine," I said. I didn't really care what the room looked like. It was a place to stay.

"I'll make some supper if you're hungry. It's getting late," she said, and I realized that I'd been at the Ministry all day long. It was nearly dark outside.

"Sure," I replied.

"What do you like?"

"I don't care."

"I'll make something simple, then," Tonks decided, and left me in the room. I sat down on the bed and looked around. All I had were the clothes I was wearing. I wondered whether I'd be allowed to get anything from my home, but even if I was, I wasn't sure I wanted to go back. In a way, I'd left that part of my life behind forever. And I wasn't sure I could deal with returning home, not after seeing Mum and Dad stretched out on the floor, dead…

Hot burning tears threatened to roll down my cheeks, but I rubbed them away angrily. Now was not the time to loose it. I could cry later.

Tonks returned. "I made sandwiches," she said, and I followed her to the kitchenette, grateful to have something to focus on. Something to take my mind off of my parents.

"Are you sure it's OK legally for me to stay with you?" I asked her, biting into my third chicken salad sandwich.

"It's OK. I got it all worked out with the Ministry."

"But doesn't legal stuff usually take a long time to process?" I said, thinking of several of my friends from school. It'd taken months for one girl to be able to legally move in with her divorced father after her mother was imprisoned for drug use.

She shrugged. "I'm an Auror. We can get anything accomplished."

Auror. What on earth was that? "What's an…"

"Oh, I forgot," Tonks said lightly. "Whenever I talk about stuff you don't recognize, just stop me and I'll explain. Merlin, there's a lot of things I need to tell you…"

I waited, curious.

"I'm a half-blood," she explained. "My mother was a pure-blood witch, and my father was Muggleborn. But they were both magical, so I grew up just knowing about the Wizarding world. For you, though, it'll be much more of a shock, though, learning about all the magical stuff."

"I'm still not sure whether I'm dreaming or not," I admitted.

"You're not dreaming," she said seriously. "It's all real. In a few days…"

But she was cut off by a sound like a doorbell. Only it wasn't coming from the door; the noise was coming from the stone fireplace next to the kitchen sink. The fireplace was the only thing in the room that looked out of place. I'd never seen a fireplace in a London flat before.

But before I had time to wonder why Tonks had a fireplace, the flames became green, and a second later a large box flew out and landed on the floor. I ogled at it.

"Oh, your stuff is here!" she exclaimed, grabbing the box and pulling a note off the top of it. "Arly collected it for you and Flooed it here."

I stared at the box. "That's my stuff?"

"Yep." Tonks bent over and opened the box. Inside were four smaller packages, the sizes of shoeboxes.

"All my stuff from my old house is there," I said, still unconvinced.

"Yep." She began to open one of the smaller boxes. I leaned over to see what was in it. To my surprise, it was full of clothes. My clothes. All the size of doll clothes. I picked up my favorite sweater, now small enough to fit easily in the palm of my hand.

"Is this a joke?" I demanded, holding the sweater in Tonk's face. She calmly took back the sweater and placed it in the box. Closing the box, she pulled out her wand and muttered something under her breath. Instantly, the box began to grow, until it was even larger than the box it'd come in.

"Now take a look inside," Tonks instructed.

I did. All my clothes were back to normal sizes. "What… How…" I sputtered.

"Magic," she said simply. "We can un-shrink the rest after we're done eating. Now, where were we?"

Reluctantly I sat back down. "You were going to tell me what an Auror is."

She chewed on the side of her mouth. "I'm not sure I want to get into that can of flobberworms tonight… I mean, I can tell you, but it might be a lot to handle at once…"

"Why? Is an Auror something bad? Are you like a hit man or something?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. An Auror is a Dark Wizard Catcher."

"Dark Wizard? I don't understand…"

Tonks sighed and took a sip of her coffee. "I'm going to tell you a story, but it'll be hard to believe."

I waited.

"About twenty-five years ago, there was an evil Wizard who began to become powerful. He gathered his followers around him, and began to do horrible things. He believed that only the purebloods should be allowed to have any rank in the Wizarding society, and that those whose blood wasn't pure should be eradicated."

I swallowed. "So he wouldn't like me because my parents were Muggles."

"Your adopted parents were Muggles," she corrected me. "Who knows who your birth parents were? They might have been Purebloods, though I doubt it. Abandoning children isn't looked upon kindly in the magical society."

"So my real parents might have been Muggles?"

Tonks frowned. "I don't know. It's really a mystery why you were adopted, especially since you turned out to be magical. But yes, they wouldn't feel kindly to you because you were raised by Muggles."

"What happened to the evil Wizard?" I asked.

"He became powerful, even more powerful than the Ministry. Everyone lived in fear. If anyone opposed him, he'd kill them. So Dumbledore…"

"Who's…"

"The greatest Wizard of all time," Tonks said impatiently. "He's the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Anyway, Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who ever feared. And we call the evil Wizard You-Know-Who because no one likes to say his name."

"But…"

"I'll tell you what his name was, but I'll only say it once. It was…" she lowered her voice, and I leaned forward to hear. "…Voldemort."

"Voldemort," I whispered. It sounded like something off of Star Wars. I bet Darth Vadar and Lord Voldemort would get along great. Strangely, the name sent chills up and down my back. "What happened?"

"Dumbledore formed a group of people to fight You-Know-Who. It was a war, and there were casualties on both sides. Then one night, You-Know-Who attacked the house of Lily and James Potter. They were both killed, but when he sent the killing curse at their one-year-old son, the curse rebounded and destroyed him."

I shook my head. "Hang on… A _baby_? You're saying a _baby_ defeated You-Know-Who?"

"Yeah. Hard to believe, isn't it? His name was…is…Harry. Harry Potter. His mother gave her life protecting him, and something about her sacrifice made him impossible to kill."

"So Voldemort's gone," I said, and Tonks winced. "Am I supposed to say 'You-Know-Who' too?"

She nodded. "It'd be best. No one says the real name, no one but Dumbledore and Harry. Remus says it too…"

And she got a faraway look in her eyes that made me wonder who Remus was. "Uh, Tonks?" I said. "Tonks?" I waved my hand in front of her face

Tonks jerked out of her daydream. "Oh, right. You-Know-Who was defeated. But…" She looked around nervously. Maybe she was paranoid someone was listening. Tonks leaned forward. "He's back."

"Back?" I echoed. "Who?"

"You-Know-Who."

"But this Harry baby defeated him!"

"Defeated and destroyed aren't the same word."

I pondered this and tried to compare it to something I was knowledgeable about. "So basically the good side won the battle but not the war."

"Precisely."

"Is the war going on right now?"

She nodded.

"How did he…you know, come back?"

"No one knows exactly how. I suppose he's found some way to make him semi-immortal."

"_Immortal_?" I rubbed my temples. This was getting too much. Suddenly a thought hit me…hard…

"Tonks?" I said slowly. "Who killed my parents?"

She didn't meet my eyes as she took a long breath. "Libby…"

"I need to know."

"It was Death Eaters."

I didn't even have to ask. "You-Know-Who's followers."

"Yes."

"Why?" I whispered.

Tonks bit her lip. "They're evil, Libby. They didn't need a reason."

"Was it because of me?"

Her head jerked up. "No! No, no, no. It wasn't because of you. Why would it be your fault? You didn't even know you were a witch until today!"

The control I'd maintained all evening long was slipping, but I had to know. I had to know the truth. "They killed my parents just for the fun of it."

"Yes."

It was suddenly too much. I really didn't want to break down in front of Tonks, so I pushed back my chair, grabbed the box and headed for my room. "I'm turning in now," I called, hoping she hadn't seen my face.

In my room, I shut the door and dug through the box, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. Finally I found my pajamas and slipped them on. Then I turned the light off, grateful that Tonks had left the Muggle technology intact when she'd moved into the complex.

It was while I was lying on my bed in the dark that the tears finally came. Soon I was crying in great, gulping sobs, my mind attached to the thought that I would never again in my entire life see Mum and Dad again.

Why? Why had that bastard Voldemort ruined my life? Death Eaters. Death Eaters had murdered my parents with some curse. That evil-looking skull in the sky must have been their mark.

Why had they done it? For fun? Or was it more? Something Tonks had said came back to me. _He believed that those whose blood wasn't pure should be eradicated._ My parents weren't magical. If they'd been pure-blooded and magical, they'd still be alive. What was wrong with Muggles? I was a Muggle. I should be dead too, if they were killed simply because they weren't magical.

My sobs were gone. I clutched the pillow to my chest and squeezed as hard as I could, trying to forget. Trying not to think about their dead bodies. Trying to rid my mind of the eerie green skull hanging over my house.

I heard a gentle click, and I froze, pretending to be asleep. A moment later, I could see the dark outline that was Tonks.

"Libby? Are you alright?" she called softly.

I lay still. "Yes," I finally grated out.

"OK," she said. "Just wondered." There was a silence, and the door clicked shut again.

I sighed and buried my face into the pillow. The tears began to flow again and I stuffed my fist in my mouth to keep from making noise. I didn't want to wake her up again.

Suddenly I heard a noise, then felt someone sitting down on the edge of the bed. She hadn't left after all! She'd made me think that she'd left. I could feel my face becoming hot in the darkness, but then Tonks reached out and put a hand on my shoulder.

There was something about the gesture of kindness that completely undid me. I began to cry again and Tonks sat there, stroking my hair and murmuring endearments.

"I'm so sorry, Libby… It'll be OK, I promise. I'm here."

I didn't feel fourteen anymore. I felt like I was seven again. Once I'd finished crying, I sat up and Tonks pulled me into a hug.

"Thank you," I sniffed, and I could feel her smile in the darkness.

"Anytime," she said sincerely.


	4. A Wand and a Tutor

Tonks woke me the next morning at seven, apologizing for the early hour. But the tutor was coming at ten and we needed to run to Diagon Alley to get me a wand and some basic level magic books.

Diagon Alley was amazing. I'd never seen anything like it before in my life; the sights, sounds, and colors overwhelmed me. Magic was everywhere—from the signs that kept switching advertisements and never showed the same one twice to the exotic animals in the menagerie shop. Several little kids zipped by me on their play brooms, and Tonks offered to buy me a real one. "I've got some money saved," she said. "Flying is great fun—I used to play Beater when I was on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts."

I declined on the broom offer—I'd always been afraid of heights. But I did want to know what Quidditch was, and how it was played, so Tonks entertained me with her stories, even the one about falling in love with the Seeker for the Gryffindor team.

"What happened to Charlie?" I asked, hoping he was still around. I hated love stories with sad endings.

"He went to Romania to work with dragons," she said, only the smallest bit of regret in her voice. "I was crushed at first, but now I'm over him."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh?"

Tonks's cheeks turned pink. "Yes," she said, and I didn't doubt her. I was instead wondering if there was someone _else_ who was helping her get over Charlie.

Then what she said sank in. "Dragons?" I gasped. "Real, live dragons?"

Instantly the conversation changed directions as she informed me that real live dragons existed, as well as ogres, giants, sphinxes, gargoyles, and a whole assortment of magical creatures I'd only read about in fairy tales.

Mr. Ollivander's wand shop was by far my most interesting stop of the day. The little man seemed delighted to see me and kept muttering things like, "I wondered when you'd be coming," and "So glad to finally meet you." When I asked him what he meant, though, he wouldn't give a clear answer.

It took quite a bit of time to find me a wand. Tonks frowned as I handed the thirty-sixth wand back to Mr. Ollivander. "It only took a few minutes to find mine," she complained. "Why's it taking so long for you?"

"Don't be hasty, don't be hasty," the little man sang. "It'll never do, never do. She must have the perfect wand… Hmm…"

He retreated behind the shelves, and finally returned carrying several more severe-looking boxes. "Try one of these, m'dear."

I took the wand out of the first box. It was a bit dusty, like it'd been on the shelves too long. I waved it.

Only a few sparks flew out. I sighed, disappointed, and handed it back to Mr. Ollivander. He took it and gazed at it thoughtfully for a few moments. "I was sure this would be the one… Ah, well. Maybe…"

He handed me the next wand. I took it, and as soon as my fingers touched the handle, I felt a surge of energy flood my body. My skin tingled, and I suddenly wondered how I'd ever felt complete without the wand in my hand. It was like living with only one arm all your life and then suddenly discovering that you actually have two.

I waved it. A shower of purple sparks flew out of the end. Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands delightedly.

"Yes, yes! Walnut, twelve inches precisely, dragon heartstring… I should have known…"

Tonks paid for the wand, and I wondered how much the golden galleons were worth in British pounds. She had spent quite a lot on me already, and I felt bad.

I told her so as we walked back to the Leaky Cauldron, laden with packages.

"Don't worry about it," she said, patting my arm with her free hand. "I've got plenty of money to spare."

"But you don't even know me. You shouldn't be doing this," I protested. If there was one thing I hated, it was charity.

"Honestly, Lib, it's OK."

"I won't accept any of this stuff if you won't let me help pay for it," I said stubbornly. "I'll…I'll get a job… or something."

She sighed. "I'd decline, but I'm not sure whether you'd take that well or not. You seem to have a stubborn streak in you."

"Sometimes it can be a good thing."

"Well, I'll let you help, but not right away. You've got plenty of other things to be worrying about in the coming weeks. But I did speak to one of the Ministry workers and he said that someone from the Muggle Relations department is going to be selling your old house. He'll put the profits in a Gringotts account with your name on it, and only then will I allow you to give me any money."

I was instantly relieved. Our house was in a nice section of town; I'd have enough money to live off of, hopefully, until I was eighteen and could get a real job. Hardly anyone hired fourteen-year-olds.

My tutor wasn't at the house yet when we got back. There was, however, an owl waiting on Tonks's windowsill.

"Darn," she said, skimming over the parchment. "Mrs. Pickledill can't make it. She took an early Portkey to New York because her daughter was ill or something. Kingsly says he's looking for someone else, but there aren't many private tutors in Britain, and most of them are occupied with schooling Pureblood children who aren't old enough to go to Hogwarts yet. I wonder who they'll send…?"

She left to go get ready for work, and I took the packages to my room and started putting my stuff away. I know had my own wand, a whole set of first year textbooks, two sets of robes (Tonks said we'd get more before I left for Hogwarts, but that wouldn't happen for a while), and some quills and parchment. I pulled out my wand again and savored the tingly feeling that spread throughout my body when I grasped it. Tonks had warned me not to try any spells until the tutor gave me permission, though. The Ministry was very strict, it seemed, about underage magic. "Just a month ago, Harry Potter was taken in for producing a Patronus in front of his cousin and they almost expelled him from Hogwarts," she had explained. I wondered if she knew this Potter hero guy personally. She sure talked about him enough.

The doorbell rang, and I ventured out in the living room. Tonks was at the door already, her Auror robes in disarray and her hair sticking up. She flung open the door, and promptly froze.

I leaned around her to see who it was. A man stood there, middle aged and graying. He had lines in his face and looked tired and worn, but the corners of his mouth were twitching as he watched Tonks's reaction.

"Can I come in?"

I nudged Tonks, and she finally seemed to wake from her trance. "Of course, come in… I wasn't expecting… I mean, I didn't know… You…"

She stepped back, her face reddening. "I'll be right back," she said, and fled to her bedroom.

The man shut the apartment door behind him, then held out a hand to me. "I'm Remus. Remus Lupin."

"Libby Rivera," I said, shaking his hand. "Are you my tutor?"

He smiled. "I guess so. I think I was the Ministry's last resort, though, so don't expect me to be _that_ good."

I gestured to the sofa. "You can sit down if you want, Mr. Lupin."

"Thanks, but don't call me Mr. Lupin. It really makes me feel old. Remus is fine."

"Remus…then," I said, feeling uncomfortable. This man had to be forty, at least.

"So you need magical tutoring?" Remus said gently. I wondered how much the Ministry had told him of my background.

I shrugged. "They said I did."

"If you don't mind my asking, why didn't you go to Hogwarts?"

"How did you know I didn't go to Hogwarts? Did the Ministry tell you?"

Remus leaned back against the couch. "I taught there a few years ago."

"Why don't you teach there now?" I asked, knowing I was prying, but after all, he had asked me personal questions too.

He smiled faintly. "Let's just say my teaching career didn't end well." He didn't volunteer any more information. "So back to my original question…"

I stared at my lap. "I just found out I was magical yesterday." Had it only been yesterday? Yesterday felt years ago. "Tonks said my house was attacked by Death Eaters. My parents were killed."

Remus's eyes went wide, and his hand whitened as it gripped the arm of the sofa. "_Death Eaters_? Attacking?"

I was surprised. Tonks had made it sound as if Death Eaters attacked all the time. "Yeah. They attacked my neighborhood."

Remus stood and began to pace. Suddenly there was a noise at the door, and when I turned, I saw Tonks there. Her robes were smoothed down, and her hair was more presentable. I even thought I saw a touch of makeup on her face.

Remus turned and saw her too. "There was an attack, Nymphadora? Why wasn't the Order informed?"

Tonks didn't even react to the use of her hated name. "Remus, please…"

"No! There was a Death Eater attack and you didn't even think to tell me?" He sounded furious. I shrank away from him.

"Remus," she pleaded. "Please! You're frightening Libby."

"I'm fourteen, not four," I retorted. I didn't want to admit that the anger in the man's eyes had unnerved me.

"You should have told us."

"There wasn't time, I swear! I only found out yesterday afternoon and offered to let her come home with me… The Ministry was questioning her and I was afraid they'd Obliviate her. I would have told the Order, but I thought Kingsley had already passed on the information."

Remus seemed to accept her explanation. He sank wearily into the armchair. "They're covering it up. There wasn't even an article in the Daily Prophet."

I looked from him to Tonks and back, confused. Covering what up?

"I know," she sighed, plopping down in the other chair. "I know, Remus. They've hidden everything. Only the Aurors know about it and we aren't allowed to talk to anyone about it under penalty of imprisonment in Azkaban. Fudge is determined to keep the population from knowing, especially since this attack only proves what Dumbledore's been saying all along: He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned."

I rubbed my head. "Hang on. You're saying that your Ministry thing is covering up the whole Death Eater attack?"

Tonks and Remus exchanged glances. Remus nodded wearily.

"But why?" I exploded. "My parents were killed by that Voldemort guy and this Fudge person is _covering it up_?!"

"Libby…"

"Why would they do this? Are they trying to keep everyone in the dark as to what is really happening? Does the Ministry want to get us all killed?"

"You'd think so, by the way they're acting," Remus muttered.

"Libby, sweetie…" Tonks moved towards me. "It's not our fault. We're doing everything we can."

"It's not enough," I choked, pulling my knees up to my chest. "If it had been, my parents wouldn't have died."

Tonks quickly slid over to the couch and put her arms around me. Remus cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'll go make tea."

By the time he'd returned with the tea, I was finished crying and Tonks had distracted me by telling me funny stories about Auror training.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work, Nymphadora?" Remus said dryly, setting two cups of tea on the side table and taking a seat in the armchair once again.

"I've told you a million times, my name is Tonks!" the girl said, exasperated. But to me, she didn't look perturbed at all. "I'll get there eventually."

"Kingsley will fire you if you're late too many more times," Remus warned.

"Kingsley will never let me go—I'm his only ally," Tonks said bitterly. "The other Aurors are such ninnies; they only believe what Fudge shoves down their throat. I hope they'll listen to reason after yesterday's carnage."

There were a few moments of silence. Then with a noisy gulp, Tonks drained her tea and stood. "Well, I'm off. Libby, you'll be alright?"

"I guess," I said.

Tonks seemed to sense my discomfort at being left along in the apartment with a man I hardly knew. "Don't worry about Remus, Lib. He's an old friend; you'll be perfectly safe with him."

I relaxed my guard a tiny bit. "OK."

"I'll be back in a couple of hours for lunch," she told me. "See you later, Remus!"

The door shut, and I heard a little pop. I frowned. "What's that noise?"

"Apparation," Remus said, and our lessons began.

**Author's Note: **I wasn't planning on this becoming a Remus/Tonks story, but seeing that Libby's now living with Tonks, it was inevitable. So, there you have it: It's late September, and Libby's a fourth year. It's Harry's fifth year. This is the setting I've decided to stick with.

Oh, and the core of Libby's wand may be a clue to discovering her past. It's not in canon, but it's on Hp-lexicon, and I'm pretty sure they only publish JK certified information on there.

Review!


	5. Three Friends and a Rat

I yawned as I pulled myself out of bed. The last week had been the busiest of my entire life. More knowledge had been crammed into my head in one week than I ever learned in a year of Muggle school. Remus was teaching me the very basics of Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Charms, and Potions. We had skipped over most of the theory behind the spells to expedite the learning process. "We don't have the time," Remus had explained. "You have to be caught up to your classmates by the beginning of next year. If they start O.W.L. year without you, you'll never be able to catch up."

"I won't be able to go to Hogwarts this year?" I was crushed. After a week of hearing both Tonks and Remus talk fondly of their school experiences, I was eager to get to the school and experience Hogwarts for myself.

Remus had smiled condolingly. "I didn't say that. I said that if you're not caught up in a year, you'll have no chance of going to Hogwarts." He leaned forward. "I personally think that you have a very good chance of being caught up long before next September. The materiel taught in the first three years of school is relatively easy and basic, there's just a lot of it. We're skipping most of the theory, and the materiel from History of Magic. We can drop Herbology too, if you want… That would make things go faster, and those two classes aren't essential to most jobs in the Wizarding World."

I had considered his offer, but in the end I decided to keep Herbology. I was awful with a wand and only OK at Potions, but I'd always liked gardening and Herbology was right up my alley. The magical botany was much more interesting that the more mundane vegetables I'd grown in a little plot behind my suburban home in Dover.

The week had been good, I decided, as I brushed my mop of dark hair and pulled it back in a hair band. Remus was pleased with the progress I'd been making, though he stressed that I needed to practice Transfiguration in my free time.

I snorted. What free time? My days were crammed full—Remus arrived at nine, and left at five, leaving me a pile of homework assignments that would surely have daunted any Ravenclaw.

Yes, I do know what the Houses are at Hogwarts. Remus and Tonks told me all about them. In fact, they frequently discuss which House I'll be placed in when I go to Hogwarts.

"Definitely Gryffindor," Remus stated at breakfast. He'd come early to eat some of Tonks's home cooking, claiming he had absolutely no food in his house.

By the looks Tonks was throwing him, he'd come for other reasons as well. If I knew how, I'd have just disappeared with a cool "pop" and left the two love birds to themselves.

They definitely liked each other. A lot. Remus was better at hiding it, but I could see through his façade.

"She's a Hufflepuff through and through," Tonks argued.

I held up both hands. "Libby would like to let you two know that she's tired of you talking about her like she doesn't exist." I took a bite of sausage and reverted back to first person. "And I actually think I want to be in Slytherin, thank you very much."

Remus and Tonks both choked.

"Kidding, just kidding," I said hastily. I didn't want them to suffocate or something.

"Brat," Tonks said, scowling.

"Oh, come on," I said exasperatedly. "You know I'd never want to be a Slytherin. Like I feel like hanging out with the kids of the people who murdered my parents." I shuddered.

The adults (OK, Tonks isn't really an adult, but she's over twenty-one so I can include her in that category) exchanged glances.

"And I'm definitely not going to be a Ravenclaw," I continued. "I absolutely refuse to study all the time."

"So then you want to be in Gryffindor," Remus said hopefully.

"Hufflepuff," Tonks growled.

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, I don't know! Either would be fine, I guess."

Neither was happy with my answer, but there wasn't much they could do about it. Tonks left shortly after to Apparate to the Ministry for work.

"So," Remus said, clapping his hands together. "Let's see how that transfiguration spell is coming along."

Three hours later, I was tired, hungry, and exasperated. "I just can't get it!" I complained, slumping back into the sofa.

Even Remus looked tired. "You'll master it eventually," he said unconvincingly. "It just takes time, that's all. I mean, look on the bright side. First year students at Hogwarts won't be turning buttons into marbles for another two months. You've come a long ways in a week."

"But I just seem to have this learning block when it comes anything using a wand," I said. I'm fine at Potions and great with Herbology, but I just can't seem to figure out how to use my wand right."

"It comes with time and practice," Remus said. "But why don't we take a break now? I'm hungry."

Tonks wasn't home yet, so we took the liberty of making ourselves sandwiches. Remus told me more Hogwarts stories as we ate and I was intrigued. There were three people he seemed to mention a lot: James, Sirius, and Peter.

"And then Sirius told all the Ravenclaw girls to look, and he tried to do a loop on his broom. But he didn't know how to brake yet and crashed right into the side of the clock tower," Remus finished and I laughed with him. "After that they made the rule that first years couldn't have brooms."

"So Sirius was one of your friends?"

"Yes, one of my best friends."

"And Peter and James? They were your friends too?"

He chewed thoughtfully on his sandwich. "James was. Peter… Well, we thought he was our friend."

"What did he do?" I asked curiously, but Remus's eyes darkened, and he just shook his head.

"So you four really broke the record for most detentions ever at Hogwarts?" I said after a minute, trying to get the subject back on lighter ground.

Remus smiled. "We did. Sirius got the most detentions, and then James. Peter was next, mostly because he wasn't the brightest and got caught when he shouldn't have. I was last, and most of the detentions I got were because of James and Sirius. They would dare me to do things and go places and I would because I wanted so badly to fit in."

"That's awful!"

He shook his head. "It wasn't, really. In my second year I finally realized that they were my friends no matter what happened, and then I just did the stupid stuff with them because I was their friend. I learned that if I couldn't talk them out of it, it was just better to go along. Keep them from doing something really stupid along the way. But after my second year, I never doubted their friendship."

I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. I swallowed a bite and voiced the question I'd been wanting to ask for a long time. "Where are they all now?"

Remus stared at his hands. I thought he wasn't going to answer, but he finally spoke "James is dead," he said flatly.

I gasped. "No."

He looked past me out the window. "You'll find out anyway, eventually," Remus said softly. "I might as well tell you. James was Harry's dad."

"Harry Potter?" The kid who supposedly saved the world from the evil dark lord guy?

"Yes. When James and Lily—his wife—found out that Voldemort wanted to kill Harry, they went into hiding. Peter was their Secret-keeper."

"What's a—"

"A Secret-keeper is the only person who knows and can tell people a certain secret. The secret, in this case, was the location of James's house. Sirius was supposed to be the Secret-keeper, but they switched at the last moment and didn't tell anyone else. Including me."

I wanted to ask why, but Remus got there first. He looked me straight in the eye. "They thought I was a spy for Voldemort."

"You?" I said skeptically. I'd never met any Death Eaters, but Remus definitely didn't seem the type.

"But really, Peter was the spy," Remus said sadly. "He betrayed them to Voldemort, who came to Godric's Hollow and killed Lily and James before attempting to kill Harry."

"But Harry lived," I said softly.

Remus nodded. "Harry lived."

After a long pause, I voiced the other question I had. "So what happened to Sirius and Peter?"

Remus gave me an appraising look. "What I'm going to tell you is a secret, one that you must keep under pain of death."

I shrugged. "I can keep secrets."

"No one else knew that James and Lily had changed Secret-keepers. When Sirius found out that Peter had betrayed them, he went looking for Peter and cornered him in an alleyway the next day. Peter blew up a whole street of Muggles and then transformed so everyone would think that Sirius was the one who did it."

"Whoa. Slow down," I said, holding up a hand. "Transformed? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ever heard of an Animagus?"

I snorted. "Seeing that I've only known about magic for a week, it's highly unlikely that I've ever heard of an 'Animagus.' So, what is it?"

"A person who can transform into an animal," Remus explained patiently. "Peter could transform into a rat. He changed, and ran, leaving Sirius to take the blame for the murders."

"What is it with you wizard-people and killing Muggles?" I muttered. "Sounds like some of your kind make a sport of it."

Remus sighed. "There are quite a lot of Wizards who hate Muggles, unfortunately."

"So, what happened after Peter morphed into a rat?"

"Well, the Aurors caught Sirius and threw him in Azkaban—the Wizarding prison—for life, and without a trial."

"Without a trial?" I sputtered. "What kind of weird, cruel, awful people…"

"That would be some of the complete idiots who work at the Ministry," Remus said.

"But doesn't Tonks work at the Ministry?"

"Yes, she does. But the Ministry overall is completely corrupt. Minister of Magic Fudge only thinks about himself and his public image. That's why he's covering up Voldemort's return."

"So Sirius is in prison," I said, sighing. "And you did nothing to help him out?"

Remus put his hands over his face, and I wondered if I'd really pushed too far this time. "No," he finally said. "I didn't. But Libby, you have to understand. I thought Peter was innocent and Sirius had betrayed Lily and James. Everyone did."

"Is he still in prison?" I pressed. "Obviously you know the truth now."

Remus gave me a long look. "No, he isn't. He escaped two years ago."

I clapped my hands. "Go Sirius! How did he do it? Where is he? Did you two make up? Did you throw Peter in Azkaban?"

"He transformed into his Animagus form, actually," Remus said. "Then he slipped through the bars and swam to shore. I know where he is, but I can't tell you because the place is under the Fidelius Charm and I'm not the Secret-keeper. But he's safe. Peter escaped and rejoined Voldemort a year before his rebirth."

"Slimy rodent," I muttered.

"I must agree," Remus said, placing his cup and silverware on his empty plate.

"Who's a slimy rodent?" Tonks sang as she closed the door behind her.

"Peter Pettigrew," Remus said distastefully, reaching over to collect my plates.

Tonks stopped. "Did you tell her?" she asked Remus. "Everything?"

Remus paused as well. "Not everything," he said carefully, conveying messages I couldn't decipher through his eyes. "Just the basics. About James, Peter, and Sirius."

"Oh," she said, and her shoulders relaxed again. "Sorry about being so late. Kingsley held me up, and I had tons of paperwork before that…"

Remus waved her apologies aside. "We left the sandwich stuff out, and there's a pitcher of juice on the counter. I think Libby and I are going to work on some simple potions this afternoon…"

"No!" Tonks said suddenly. Remus and I both looked at her. "Sorry," she muttered. "I mean, you can't do that this afternoon. The Ministry scheduled an appointment for Libby at St. Mungo's."

"What? Why?"

Tonks shrugged. "I don't know exactly. I suspect they want to run some blood tests and do a general physical."

I groaned. "Great. Just what I wanted to do this afternoon. Sit around at a hospital while nurses stick needles into me."

Tonks looked genuinely horrified. "Needles? Good lord, no! The Healers would never do that!"

Remus put a calming hand on her arm. "Relax, Nymphadora. Muggles use needles for every hospital procedure."

Tonks gaped at me. "You've had needles stuck in you before?"

"Oh yeah," I said. "School shots, blood tests—I even got an IV once when I had to spend a week in the hospital after breaking my leg."

"A _week_?"

"You'd better eat if you mean to get Libby to the appointment in time," Remus said hastily, guiding Tonks toward the counter.

"I'm so glad I wasn't raised by Muggles," she muttered.

**A/N: **If you like this story and haven't read any of my other ones, check out The World as We Knew It on my profile page. And for those of you who read my other story, there might be minor overlaps in little details... (for example, the reason why first years weren't allowed to have brooms)

Ooooh, how's Libby going to react to the whole werewolf thing? Coming soon, a trip to St. Mungo's, and a visit to Andromeda's house. More Tonks/Remus as well! Stay tuned.

And as always…

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Thanks!


	6. St Mungo's

We flooed to St. Mungo's, and as I stumbled out of the fireplace, I was immensely grateful that on my first day we'd taken a cab back to Tonks's apartment. My stomach was churning and the ground felt like it was moving up and down. I held my head and groaned.

"It's pretty bad on the first time, isn't it?" Tonks said sympathetically, steadying me.

"Next time, let's just take a cab," I said fervently. "Or do that 'pop' thing you always do when you're going to work."

"Apparating is much worse than floo power," Tonks told me. "And I didn't bring any Muggle money. But I suppose we could use the Knight Bus, if you want."

I nodded. Any kind of bus sounded better than that awful green fireplace.

Once the dizziness was gone, we followed the signs to the waiting room. Tonks told the witch at the front desk what we were there for, and we found seats. I looked around and gulped.

The waiting room was full of people who looked like they'd just stepped out of a horror movie. There was a man who had Davy Jones-like tentacles all over his face. The woman next to him was purple—literally purple! It looked as if she'd fallen into a vat of lavender dye. Across the room was a haggard-looking man holding a smiling girl. At first I couldn't tell what was wrong with her, but then the father began talking to the three-eyed man next to him and lessened his grip on the child. To my shock, she began to rise into the air.

I looked at Tonks. She wasn't even paying attention to the oddities around her. Instead, she was flipping casually through a copy of Witch Weekly.

I glanced back at the man with tentacles and shuddered. Tonks finally looked up, saw my face, and grinned.

"Doesn't this bother you at all?" I asked, trying not to look at the other grossly disfigured occupants of the room.

"Nope," Tonks said cheerfully. "Believe me, as an Auror, I see it all."

"Then I'm glad I'm not an Auror," I muttered. "What's wrong with that girl?"

Tonks studied the toddler. "I'm guessing she got a dose of Anti-Gravity Potion, but I don't know how. That Potion is illegal."

"Libby Rivera," a bored Healer called from the door.

Tonks looked surprised as she stood and slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. "The Healers are never this fast," she said, frowning. "The Ministry must have intervened."

We followed the Healer down a long white hallway to a blue lift. The lift took us to level six. "Visitor's Tea Room and Hospital Shop," a cool female voice said before the doors opened to reveal a cheerfully decorated hall. We walked down it and soon came to a ward that looked new.

"I've never been here before," Tonks said excitedly. "I hear it was a very recent addition."

"It's our new wing for check ups and examination procedures," the Healer accompanying us said in a monotone voice. "We were very lucky to receive a large donation from Mr. Lucius Malfoy."

Tonks's smile faded, a scowl quickly replacing it. She muttered something indistinct under her breath, and I wondered who Lucius Malfoy was and why she didn't like him very much.

The Healer led us into a small white room. "Another Healer will be around in just a few minutes," she told us before leaving.

Tonks plopped down in one of the chairs; I perched myself nervously on the edge of the examination table and began to swing my legs.

"Who is Lucius Malfoy?" I asked after a minute.

Tonks stiffened. "A Death Eater," she spat.

"What?" I was sure I hadn't heard right.

Tonks crumpled up the magazine angrily. "He's a very powerful, influential Death Eater with lots of money. After You-Know-Who's fall, Malfoy claimed he'd been under the Imperius Curse and got out of a one-way ticket to Azkaban."

"And nobody guessed that he was lying?"

"Oh, they all knew he was lying," she said bitterly. "But around here money is power. Anyway, he's still a Death Eater—Harry saw him in the graveyard at You-Know-Who's rebirthing."

It all seemed to come back to Harry. I wondered what Harry was like in person; Tonks had so far portrayed him as a nice guy, but I had my doubts. How could someone famous be nice? Usually famous people were stuck up and pompous and disdainful.

"I hate the git," Tonks was saying. "Especially after he married Narcissa."

"Who's Narcissa?"

Tonks sighed. "She's my aunt on my mother's side. I won't lie to you, Libby. I come from a long line of pureblood families, most of whom ended up on the dark side. My mother was the exception—she married a Muggleborn and got herself banished."

"That's awful!"

Tonks shrugged. "It's not so bad," she said. "You don't know what my relatives are like. From what I've seen of the ones currently in Azkaban, I'm glad my mother cut the ties."

I was about to ask what her relatives had done to end up in Azkaban, but the door opened and a petite Healer with red hair and spectacles entered the room, followed by a stout woman with a perpetual scowl etched on her face.

"I'm Healer Douglas," the red-haired woman said cheerfully. "And you're Libby?"

I nodded, glancing at Tonks. To my surprise, she was eying the other woman suspiciously. The stout woman seemed surprised to see Tonks, and her scowl deepened.

"Who are you?" Tonks asked, standing.

"Margaret Edgecombe," the woman said coldly. "And what are you doing here, Miss Tonks?"

Tonks straightened. "I'm Libby's guardian. Why are you doing here? I would think that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement wouldn't be able to loose your valuable time right now, seeing they're so busy."

Margaret Edgecombe's eyes narrowed. "I am here on behalf of the Ministry to record the results of this girl's physical," she said stiffly.

Healer Douglas looked flustered. "Well, let's get started," she said quickly, fluttering around the room. I watched her carefully, but she didn't pick up anything that looked like needles or shots.

"OK," she said. "I'm going to first run a Magic Level Diagnostic test on you. Hold still, please."

She pointed her wand at me and muttered a few incantations. Suddenly a small purple pinprick began to glow right above my heart. It grew and pulsed until it was the same size as a large beach ball. Slowly the light faded, and I looked expectantly at the Healer.

"Just a little below average," she told me, "but you're definitely magical. Now let me take a blood sample."

She placed her wand on my left forearm, but before she could say the spell, Edgecombe had stepped forward. "The Ministry has ordered that a full bloodline test be ordered."

Healer Douglas wavered. "A f-full b-bloodline test?" she stammered. "But that will take months…and it's very expensive!"

"The Ministry will take care of the bill," Edgecombe stated.

"A full bloodline test? What for?" Tonks demanded.

Edgecombe eyed here coldly. "To find out who this girl is related to, of course. Standard procedure."

"But isn't that her decision?" Tonks argued. "Why is the Ministry so interested in her?"

"I'm going to start the blood removal now," Healer Douglas said a little louder than normal. "Please refrain from talking, ladies!"

She pulled out a larger vial from the drawer and again placed her wand on my arm. I braced myself for some type of pain, but nothing happened. I looked at the vial; to my surprise, it was filling quickly with bright red liquid.

When the vial was full, Douglas capped it and handed me another vial full of yellow liquid. "Blood-Replenishing Potion," she said. "Drink it all and you won't feel faint."

I did, grimacing at the taste. Douglas smiled. "It's not the worst potion in the hospital," she told me. "Believe me, if you ever try Skele-Gro, you'll immediately compare this potion with the best desert at Hogwarts."

I handed the empty container back to her, and she made it disappear with a flick of her wand. "I'll send this to the Ravenclaw Magical Institue of Research and Spellwork for the bloodline tests," she decided, placing the vial containing my blood in her pocket. "OK, Libby. Hold up your arms."

I did, and she muttered something else and waved her wand in long strokes over my body. Suddenly colors began to blossom over different areas. "Hmmmm," the Healer said, examining the colors. "You broke your leg about two years ago."

"Soccer accident," I explained.

The Healer frowned. "Soccer?"

"Muggle sport," Tonks said quickly.

"OK. What did you do to your lungs?"

"Asthma," I said. "It was really bad when I was little, but when I started using inhalers, it got better. Now I can play sports and everything."

"One Asthma potion," Douglas said, writing something on a small piece of parchment. "Is that a fracture in your wrist?"

I grinned sheepishly. "Fell off the top bunk of my friend's bed five years ago."

Tonks snorted.

"Alright, it looks as if you're in good health," the Healer said, smiling encouragingly at me. "Clean bill of health. Are there any magical immunizations you need to get?"

I looked at Tonks. "She was Muggle-raised," Tonks said. "I doubt she's had any of the usual."

"Then I'll order a whole set of potions," Douglas decided, and I groaned. She patted my arm sympathetically. "Don't worry, I'll tell the potion brewers to try not to make them taste horrible for you."

I slipped off the bed. "Is that it?"

"That's it…" Healer Douglas began, but Edgecombe cut her off.

"Elizabeth, I need to have a word with you."

I turned to look at her. This woman really freaked me out. I didn't know exactly why, but I really didn't feel comfortable around her.

"Alone," she clarified.

I lifted my chin. "Anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of them."

Edgecombe shifted uncomfortably. "I said, I need to speak to you alone."

"Why?"

Healer Douglas was hovering next to the door. "Maybe I should leave," she suggested.

"No!" I said.

"That's a marvelous idea," Edgecombe said coolly, shooting a glare at the Healer.

"Stay," Tonks said, moving closer and putting a protective hand on my arm.

"I told her to go," Edgecombe hissed at Tonks, her voice icy cold.

"I think I'm just going to go," Douglas said, and slipped out of the room. As soon as she shut the door, Edgecombe exploded.

"How dare you contradict your senior, Tonks?" she raged. "I could have you fired."

"I don't work for you, in case you've forgotten," Tonks shot back.

"But I know all the right people to get you taken out of office," Edgecombe threatened, and I saw Tonks grow paler.

"You have no right coming here and demanding a one-on-one interview with my charge," Tonks said stoutly. "If you wish to talk to Libby, send an owl and she will meet you at the Ministry. We were here today for a physical, and that's all."

I watched the two nervously. What did Edgecombe want to say to me anyways?

Edgecombe was wavering on the edge. Her plump face had grown quite red. "Fine," she finally hissed. "But I won't forget this, Nymphadora Tonks."

And she stomped out of the room.

Tonks let out a huge breath and collapsed into the door. I stood there awkwardly. "Thanks."

"No problem," she sighed. Then she suddenly sat up straight. "Oh, gosh, Lib. Do you know what she wants?"

I shook my head. "What?"

Tonks began to pace. "I'm not certain for sure, but I have an idea… I need to talk to Remus…but this is serious, Libby. Really serious. We need to get out of here, now."

**Author's Note: **I'm going to make myself clear. LIBBY IS OF NO RELATION TO HARRY OR SNAPE. Sorry if any of you were hoping, but I'm tired of the clichéd "Harry meets twin sister" "Snape's forgotten daughter" stories. I'm trying to make this one original.

Review! Next chapter, a guest appearance by our favorite greasy-haired potions master! And maybe, just maybe, a clue?


	7. Crisis

Tonks and I raced through the hospital to the fireplaces. I groaned, but Tonks shook her head. "Sorry, Lib, but we don't have time to take the bus."

"Why are we leaving in such a hurry?" I asked, but Tonks only shoved a fistful of green powder into my hand. "Fine, fine," I grumbled, and threw the powder into the nearest fireplace. "Nymphadora Tonks's apartment!"

Instantly I was sucked into the green flames. Spinning wildly, I got glimpses of fireplaces flying by. When I stumbled out of the fireplace in Tonks's living room, I staggered to the couch and collapsed on it, trying to make my head stop spinning.

Tonks flew out a second later and wasted no time throwing another handful of floo powder back into the fireplace. She stuck her head in. "Remus? Remus, are you there?"

There was a pause in which I assumed he answered her. Then she said, "Can you come over here? Now?"

She pulled her head back out and stepped back. A moment later, Remus Lupin stepped from the fireplace, brushing ash from his robes. "What is it, Nymphadora?" he asked worriedly.

Tonks ran her hand through her hair, making it stick up even more. "Oh, Remus… That awful Edgecombe woman was at St. Mungo's!"

He frowned. "Marletta? But she works…"

"At the Floo Network Office, I know," Tonks finished. "It wasn't her. It was Margaret—the one who works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Remus's eyes widened. "What did she want?"

Tonks gave him a significant look. "To speak with Libby alone."

There was a long silence. "This is bad," Remus finally said, starting to pace. "Do you know what this means?"

"No," I interjected. "What?"

Neither was listening. Tonks nodded. "What will we do?"

"I don't know… We need to find a potion, don't we? There's an apothecary in Diagon Alley, but I doubt it'd have that particular potion. It's probably illegal."

"What potion?" I asked. I was getting irritated.

"Would Moody have one?" Tonks asked. "I doubt he would… He usually doesn't have a large of stock of potions—he only keeps around the ones he needs. I don't think Dumbledore would have any either, and besides, I'd feel bad bothering him."

"If we have to bother him, we will," Remus said gravely. "This is serious."

There was a pause, and I opened my mouth to demand that they tell me what they were talking, but Remus spoke first.

"Severus!"

Tonks gasped. "Why didn't I think of it before? Even if he doesn't have the potion, I'll bet my two front teeth that he could whip one up in a couple of hours."

"The problem is going to be convincing him to help us." A frown crossed Remus's face.

"I'll convince him," Tonks said confidently. Suddenly she threw her arms around the older man. "Oh Remus, thank you so much! What would I do without you? You're such a good friend."

I watched Remus's expression become surprised as she hugged him. But then his smile faded, and he looked sad. "You're a good friend too, Tonks," he said quietly.

She pulled away and looked into his eyes as if searching for something.

I lost my patience. "Will _somebody_ please tell me what is going on?"

They jumped as if they'd forgotten me. Tonks looked up at Remus. "You tell her," she said softly. "I'm going to go get changed for the trip."

"Wait…Tonks… You can't go! Severus will never say yes to you."

Tonks eyed Remus dangerously. "Just watch," she said before disappearing down the hall.

Remus turned back to me. "The Ministry wants to Obliviate you," he said bluntly.

I gasped. "Why?" It'd been a week, but I knew full well by now what "Obliviate" meant.

He sighed. "Think, Elizabeth. Who exactly know about the Death Eater attack? Be specific."

I thought. "Well, you and Tonks, Dawlish, that Kingsley guy, obviously Edgecombe, the other Aurors who were there, some random people in higher positions, the Minister of Magic…"

"Any one else?"

I scrunched up my face. "The Muggles?"

"They were Obliviated."

"Um…"

"The last person who knows is in this room," Remus hinted, and my eyes widened.

"Me."

He nodded. "Now think about it: The Ministry has been covering up Voldemort's return for months now. What would people think if they found out that Death Eaters had attacked a neighborhood in Dover and killed twenty Muggles? The Wizarding World would panic. The Dark Mark is enough to spark fear in anyone old enough to remember Voldemort's reign of power fifteen years ago."

"But I don't see…"

" Elizabeth, think carefully about the people you've just listed. The Minister of Magic, a few people in high authority positions, a dozen Aurors, me, and you. Except that the Ministry doesn't know that you and Tonks told me what happened. Mull over the list in your head and tell me who the Ministry would single out as the most untrustworthy person."

"Me," I whispered.

"You," he echoed. "The Aurors have, of course, been put under strict oaths not to tell anyone about the attacks. If any of them do let the information slip out, they could loose their jobs. But you…"

"Wouldn't they just put me under an oath?"

"It's illegal to do that to citizens, especially children," Remus told me. "And besides, the oath doesn't keep you from telling, it simply informs the Ministry any time you do pass along the information about the Death Eater attack."

"So they think I won't keep it a secret," I said softly.

He nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. Tonks told me yesterday that she'd been getting hints at work that the Ministry was going to Obliviate you."

"But if all the Aurors are under oath, and I'm…" I swallowed hard. "…Obliviated, when who will tell the truth? No one will know that Voldemort is really back! My parents…will have died in vain," I finished in a whisper.

Remus smiled faintly. "That's the ironic part, though. The second-in-command at the Auror department is Kingsley Shacklebolt, and he's on our side. He doesn't have to take the oath since he's in a higher position than the lesser Aurors. He told the Order, and Dumbledore's already doing what he can. You told me, so Tonks didn't have to break her oath. Despite the Ministry's efforts, the news is out."

"But the Ministry doesn't know that," I said. "Are they really going to Obliviate me? Does it hurt? Can we stop it? I don't want to forget!"

"Don't worry, Tonks and I are working on that," Remus reassured me. "You won't loose your memories."

"How?"

But at that instant, Tonks appeared in the doorway, and my jaw dropped.

Instead of the regular jeans and t-shirt, she had on dark green robes. But that wasn't what I was shocked about.

Her hair was black.

And long.

It hung down her back in long, luxurious curls, when only a minute before it'd been spiky and purple.

I stared. And stared. And stared. Remus took one look at Tonks and rose angrily from his chair. "What do you think you're doing? You can't be going to visit Severus like _this!" _

"I most certainly am," Tonks said, sweeping past him. The effect was grand, until she tripped over the bunched up rug and sprawled ungracefully on the ground.

"Oh, go away, I can get up myself," she grumbled as Remus offered her a hand. "Ready, Libby?"

I couldn't speak. I was still staring. "Oh, heavens," Tonks said irritably. "It's not like you haven't seen me morph before."

"M-morph?" I stuttered.

Remus shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Just like you to forget something important like that," he chided her.

But Tonks had turned to stare at me. "I didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" I said angrily. "How'd your hair get so long?"

She and Remus exchanged glances. "I'm a Metamorphagus," Tonks explained. "Watch."

And before my eyes, her face seemed to change. Her nose became straighter and longer, and her hair turned dark brown and bushy. She spouted dark eyebrows that curved up in the middle. Her cheekbones stuck out, and her skin turned a few shades lighter. She had turned into me.

In a second, she was Tonks again. "See?"

"Oh gosh," I muttered. "Is this real?"

Tonks grinned. "I assure you, it's real. But why didn't you say anything before? I changed my hair a couple times last week."

I shook my head. "You always did it when you were at work! I just assumed that you dyed your hair magically or at some Muggle salon before coming home."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Figures."

"Can you change into anyone?" I asked eagerly.

Tonks screwed up her face and an instant later, there were two versions of Remus in the room. The real Remus shook his head. "That's disturbing," he said, and Tonks quickly morphed back.

"Don't criticize. It's hard to morph into guys," she said, scowling at Remus. "There's certain anatomy that even Metamorphaguses can't reproduce."

Remus turned bright red as I giggled. "Um, if you're going to go see Severus, you'd better leave," he suggested.

Tonks frowned. "Oh. Right. Remus, can you do some type of glamour charm on Libby? I never learned how."

"Why not?" I asked as Remus waved his wand in front of my face. "And why do I have to look different?"

"I never needed the charm, being a Metamorphagus," she explained. "And you've got to have a glamour charm because we're going to Hogwarts."

"Who's at Hogwarts?" I asked, confused.

Remus and Tonks exchanged significant glances. "Dolores Umbridge."

**Author's Note:** I just added a new note at the beginning of the story, but I'll say here what I made clear there. Sorry to disappoint some of you reviewers, but I want to say right here that Libby is of NO relation to Harry or Snape. I'm sorry, but I hate the clichéd Harry-Potter-has-a-twin-sister and Snape-has-a-daughter stories. I'm trying to make this story relatively original.

Sorry, I lied. NEXT chapter will have a guest appearance from our favorite greasy professor.

_Review please _

_If you like _

_And if you don't _

_Go take a hike! _

Awful poem. There's a reason why I'm taking Nursing instead of English, huh?


	8. The Potions Master

As we walked up the road to Hogwarts, I couldn't help glancing down at my hair every so often. When Tonks had said I needed a glamour charm, I hadn't known that Remus turn my hair blonde! I felt like a Barbie doll.

"Stop fidgeting," Tonks said, picking up the pace. "We're almost there."

I turned my attention back to the castle ahead. Hogwarts looked like something right out of a fairy tale: the high stone walls, the massive doors, the many turrets and towers, the Black Lake nestled right next to it, and the huge Quidditch Pitch with the goals towering above my head.

Tonks had a dreamy look on her face. "So many of my good memories are here," she said, eying the Quidditch Pitch. I tried to imagine people on real brooms soaring around the goals, but I couldn't.

There were students lounging on the front lawn, and I eyed them nervously. But they didn't look weird or abnormal. If they didn't have black school robes on, I might have easily mistaken them for kids at my school back home.

"Come on," Tonks said, and we climbed the steps and walked through the massive doors.

If possible, Hogwarts was even more impressive on the inside than it was on the outside. From the entry way, I could see right into the great hall. The ceiling was incredible! And the four long tables…I tried to imagine them full of students and piling with food.

"This way," Tonks said, pulling me along. We passed a few students who paid us no mind as we made our way down a long hallway and down a set of grim stairs.

As we entered the dungeons, I felt as if I'd just stepped into Medieval times. The torches on the wall cast gloomy shadows on the stone walls. "The Slytherin Common Room is that way," Tonks said, pointing to a passageway that led to the left. "Don't ask me how I know that, cause I won't tell you!" she said when I gave her a curious look. I saved that piece of information away for later.

We finally reached a corridor with several large wooden doors. "Welcome to the Potions classroom," Tonks told me. We passed it and stopped at the next door. "Severus's office," Tonks said. "Don't say anything unless I give you permission."

She knocked, and I twisted my hands nervously.

"Enter," someone said sharply.

Tonks swung the door open and I followed her in. I found myself in a dimly lit room, gloomy and musty. The walls were covered with shelves of potion ingredients: a jar of pickled toad intestines, a basket of dried animal claws, and a vial of sickeningly red liquid that looked like blood.

A low fire burned in a stone fireplace on one wall. There were a couple of rickety chairs next to the fire, and across the room, a desk piled high with parchments and books.

"Nymphadora, it is, of course, not a pleasure to see you again," the man behind the desk growled. I immediately didn't like him. Severus Snape had glittering black eyes, a hook nose, and sallow skin that looked pale next to his greasy black hair. He looked like a villain right out of a fairytale.

"Oh Severus, you don't really mean that," Tonks said lightly, pulling a dusty chair towards the desk and settling herself in it. "You don't care if I sit down, do you?"

"I do mind," Snape began, but Tonks continued like she hadn't heard him.

"Oh, introductions. I'm so forgetful… Libby, come here."

I moved cautiously forward. I didn't trust Professor Snape already and couldn't understand why we'd come to him for help.

"Severus, this is Libby Rivera. Libby, Professor Snape. He'll be your teacher soon."

"Nice to meet you," I mumbled politely. He looked at me for a long moment, then rose from his chair and rounded the desk, pulling his wand from his robes.

I shrank back. "Silly girl, this won't hurt!" he said, waving his wand over me. Instantly the glamour charm disappeared.

I froze as Snape regarded me for what seemed like forever with cold, unemotional eyes. Then he turned away. I let my breath out and looked over at Tonks. She seemed to not have noticed.

"We need your help, Severus," she began. "The Ministry…"

"Who is she?" he said sharply.

"The Ministry is being a bunch of hippogriffs," Tonks finished firmly. "I told you, her name is Libby Rivera. She's…"

"Unless the girl is deaf and dumb, I'd prefer that she answer for herself!" Snape snapped. "What's your name?"

"L-Libby R-Rivera," I stammered.

"Libby? What kind of name is that?" Snape scoffed.

"It's actually Elizabeth…uh, sir."

"Common Muggle name," the man said darkly. "Are you a witch? Or just some Muggle off the street that Tonks is dragging around for fun?"

Tonks jumped to her feet. "Severus Snape," she said in a dangerous voice, her eyes flashing. "I don't care how important you think you are, you will not be speaking to Libby like that."

Snape spun to face her. "And I will not be ordered around by you, Miss Tonks!" he snarled. "I am your superior. You silly, sentimental Hufflepuffs have no respect for authority."

"And you haughty Slytherins won't even admit that anyone but yourselves might be right once in a while! You may have been my superior once, but now we are equals in the Order. I will not be intimidated by you. I don't know what you think this is about, but if you think this is merely house rivalry, you're wrong. You may be a Slytherin, a fact that is unfortunately unchangeable, but I am no Gryffindor! I came here because I needed your _help, _Severus, and believe me, it was not an easy decision to make. I lowered my pride the moment I stepped through this door. But I did have hopes that this time you wouldn't behave like a child! Obviously my hope was unfounded and foolish."

I gaped at her. Snape simply sneered, but I got the feeling that this was the closest thing to speechless he'd been in a long while.

"It was foolish of you to come, but that's only to be expected from a Hufflepuff," Snape finally said. Tonks still didn't move, and I was still frozen by her side. Snape turned with a swish of robes and stalked over to one of the shelves. He was instantly engrossed in re-organizing his stock of potions ingredients

I looked at Tonks. She shook her head at me. "Now we wait," she mouthed.

And we waited. For what seemed like forever. It was probably only a few minutes, really, before Snape spoke, his back still turned to us. "Are you a witch, girl?"

Tonks nodded at me. "Yes," I gulped.

Snape turned glared at me with cold eyes. "Why didn't you attend Hogwarts?"

"I only discovered I was magical a week ago."

His eyebrows shot up. "Latent magic? Sparked by what event?"

I looked down. "The death of my Muggle adopted parents in a Death Eater attack."

Snape was silent for a long time. "I still don't see how this involves me in any way," he finally said coldly.

Tonks took a deep breath. "Severus, you know how the Ministry is. They want to squash out all evidence that You-Know-Who has returned. They're going to Obliviate Libby."

There was another long silence, then to my surprise, Snape began to laugh. It was a bone-chilling laugh that made me shiver. "So that's why you came here, Miss Tonks," Snape said. "If you're stupid enough to think I can't see through your façade, I don't know why they ever made you an Auror. You come to me, enlist my sympathies, and then ask me to produce an illegal potion. The Ministry would throw a party if I was found in possession of Anti-Obliviate Potion. I'm sorry, silly girl, but your plans fell through. Once again you have failed to fool Severus Snape."

With a magnificent sneer, he turned and headed back to the desk, his robes billowing behind him.

Tonks watched him go, her mouth slightly open, eyes wide. "No, no, no…" she sputtered. "Severus, you've got it all wrong! I came to you because you were the only one who can help! Don't you see? Listen to me! Try to wrap your tiny self-centered Slytherin brain around this concept: What good will our claims that You-Know-Who has returned be if the Ministry wipes the mind of our only eyewitness who is not currently under oath by the Ministry? She's the only one who can really tell the story. Don't you see how she can help the cause? And all this time I thought you were working against You-Know-Who! Because if you sit idly by while the Ministry destroys our last human evidence, you are more of a coward than I thought, Severus Snape. Crawl back to your Dark Lord. I'm sure you're making him really happy by your actions today. Come on, Libby, let's go."

Dazed, I let Tonks pull me to the door. I snuck one last glance back at Snape over my shoulder. He wasn't even looking at us—the git was marking essays as if nothing had happened!

Tonks reached the door, but just as she touched the handle, Snape spoke from the shadows. "Stop. For god's sake, your acting like a stupid Gryffindor, Nymphadora! Stomping off when you've got the upper hand. Spending too much time with that damn werewolf, have you?"

Tonks stopped and turned, but I could see a hint of smile on her face. "So will you help us, Severus?"

Snape scowled for what seemed like forever. But finally, he growled, "I might have a vial of that potion in my stores."

The ice broken, Snape wasn't so bad after all. He still seemed incapable of letting anything positive slip out of his mouth, and his face was stuck in a perpetual scowl, but if Tonks didn't care, I wasn't going to let it bother me. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as Snape dug around in his adjacent store room for some Anti-Obliviate Potion.

"Oh thank you so much, Severus," she gushed.

"You look like an idiot, Nymphadora! You're acting like a silly Muggle."

"I take offense at that," I said, scowling.

"Don't," Tonks sang. "I'd agree with almost anything he said right now! Oh Severus, you don't know how much this means..."

"If you thank me one more time, I'll change my mind," Snape threatened. "Oh thank Merlin, here it is. Then maybe I can throw you two out of my office and get some peace and quiet in here."

He handed Tonks a small vial. "You're sure this will do the trick?" she said, frowning at it.

Snape scowled. "You dare question the quality of my work?"

"No, no," she said hastily. "Not at all!"

"Then take the potion and get out of my office!"

Tonks wrinkled her nose. "Gladly, Severus. Really, you need to find yourself a woman. Maybe she'd redecorate this gloomy place."

"OUT!"

"Alright, alright," Tonks said, winking at me before we headed for the door.

**There you go! So please review and tell me what you think.**


	9. Snakes and Lions

"I've got to go talk to Minerva," Tonks told me as we climbed the stairs from the dungeons. "I'd take you along, but it's all Order business and kinda top secret. So give yourself a self-guided tour of Hogwarts."

"Really?" I gasped. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious," she said, grinning at me. "Now when the clock tower rings out six, start making your way back to the entry hall. If you get lost, just ask any student—they'll help you. Oh, and stay away from the kids with green crests on their robes. Those are the Slytherins—a nasty bunch, if you ask me. If they corner you, though, just pretend you're Snape and tell them you're a Pureblood from France. And invent yourself a fancy name." 

"Um, OK," I said uncertainly. "Hang on…I'm supposed to act like _Snape?" _

Tonks giggled. "Not exactly like him, silly. Just act aloof and haughty. Now I've got to go, so be good."

"Yes, Mum," I muttered, and then my face paled as I realized what I'd said. Tonks leaned forward and gave me a quick hug before dashing up the staircase.

* * *

Hogwarts was amazing. Absolutely amazing. The corridors, the staircases, the talking portraits and moving statues, the tapestries that could conceal a secret passageway or nothing at all, the ghosts floating in and out of walls… I'd never seen anything like it before. Being at Hogwarts was kind of like being in one enormous joke shack—you know, the types where the staircases lead to nowhere and open doors are actually just painted to look like they're open. Hogwarts was better, though, because all this stuff was magical!

I kept running into dead ends or getting my feet stuck in steps on staircases that weren't actually there, but it was so much fun I didn't care. The portraits called out greetings and directions to me as I passed. "The statue of Kathryn the Kind is to your left, and that statue there is of Unther the Unbelievable. Now if you follow this passageway, you can take a stairway to the fourth floor,"

"Thanks," I called gratefully to the little man sitting next to a plump lady. He winked at me before turning back to his friend.

I rounded the corner and started up the staircase just as a group of nervous-looking boys with blue crests on their robes appeared at the top. They were walking very quickly and a couple kept glancing anxiously back. I flattened myself against the wall and let them pass, wondering what they were trying to get away from.

_Blue. Isn't that Ravenclaw? They must be first years. They don't look more than eleven or twelve. _

I continued on up the stairs. When I rounded the first corner of a fourth floor hallway, I found out what the first years had been running from.

A bunch of Hogwarts students were gathered in a circle around six people, five of whom had their wands out. The three closest to me were three boys, two burly ones and a skinny blonde teenager. I immediately noted the green crests on their robes. The three students facing them had red crests on their robes. Was that Gryffindor or Hufflepuff? I couldn't remember. The situation didn't look good. I started to leave, but seemingly by magnetism, I was drawn to the circle, curious about what was going on.

"Get out of my way, four eyes," the blonde boy closest to me snarled at the skinny with glasses.

"Four eyes? Is that the best you can think of, Malfoy? 'Cause I've met owls who can come up with better insults," said a tall, lanky boy with bright red hair.

"Ron, no…" the girl on his other side said, the only person without a wand out. She tugged at his arm, but he shrugged her off.

"I could take you," the boy she'd called Ron said.

I agreed. Ron didn't look much older than me, but he was tall for his age and wiry. Malfoy, on the other hand, was shorter and skinnier. Malfoy's two friends though…I didn't trust them. They were large and muscular, and looked a bit like two overlarge apes. If it came down to hand in hand combat between the two parties, I had no doubt as to which side would win.

But these people had wands.

"Don't, Ron," the bushy-haired girl pleaded. "Please, let's just leave.."

The blond boy sneered. "Hear that, Weasel? Your Mudblood friend agrees… You wouldn't have a chance."

The redhead sputtered angrily, but my attention was immediately drawn to the other boy. He stepped forward, his green eyes blazing. "Take that back, Malfoy," he said quietly.

I shrank back. Something about the anger that radiating from the boy with black hair frightened me. I stepped back, determined to leave. It was probably getting late. Maybe the bell had rung six o'clock already...

I backed up, and promptly knocked into someone.

"And who might you be?" someone growled.

I turned, and found myself face to face with a tall, black boy wearing black robes with the same green crest. A Slytherin.

Right. It was time to do some smooth talking.

"Are you addressing me?" I said, lifting my chin and giving him a withering glance.

He crossed his arms and scowled. "I thought that was clear. Who are you?"

I tossed my hair. "I am Marie Antoinette Marcel, and I am visiting from France." OK, OK. It was the only French name I could come up with on the spur of the moment. We studied about Marie Antoinette in class, and I used to have a French teacher named Jean Marcel.

"You don't sound French," the boy objected, eying me suspiciously.

"My parents were originally from America," I said, thinking fast. "But I had an English governess most of my life, and she taught me the accent." If I told him that my parents were from England, he might inquire further into my lineage. "I am looking over Hogwarts with my governess, but obviously, with such a horrible welcome, I doubt I'll ever be attending this school… And you are?"

"Blaise Zabini," the boy said smoothly. "Miss Marcel, it's a pleasure to meet you. I do have one more question, though… You are a pureblood, are you not?"

"Of course!" I exclaimed, trying to look scandalized that anyone would think otherwise. "And you?"

"The Zabinis are one of the longest lines of purebloods in England," Blaise said pompously. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. What inflated little prick.

The shouting drew our attention back to Malfoy and Ron and the others. "You should be talking, scarhead," the blonde boy was saying loudly, but his face was reddening with anger. "I don't see your parents around anywhere… But oh, I forgot! They're _dead." _

My face paled. That insult had struck one of my nerves. Who did that little Malfoy person think he was anyway?

Then Tonks's words about Lucius Malfoy came back to me: _He's a very powerful, influential Death Eater with lots of money. _ I'd bet my front teeth that this little twerp was related to the same Malfoy who Tonks had been talking about.

The black-haired boy's face was white. "Shut up, Malfoy," he said, but I could see his control slipping.

"Whatcha going to do?" Malfoy taunted. "No Mummy and Daddy to come running to save you from me, Potter."

My jaw dropped. Potter. Harry Potter. That scrawny kid with black hair, bright green eyes, and round glasses was Harry Potter, the baby who'd defeated Voldemort. I took a second look, but I honestly couldn't imagine him facing the darkest wizard ever.

But again, I knew that most books and movies really played up the heros. Hardly ever were there normal-looking, acting, talking heros. I had expected Superman, but I knew that was just my premonitions kicking in.

"I said, SHUT UP!" Potter yelled, loosing control. "Expelliarimus!"

A jet of red light flew through the air, and I gasped. Malfoy ducked, and the spell hit the large boy to his right in the chest. He staggered back, his wand flying in the opposite direction.

"Say your last goodbyes!" the blonde boy yelled. "Orofla…"

"Protego!" Harry Potter cried, and the green jet of light ricocheted off a shining blue shield that surrounded him for a few brief moments.

Then the spells really began to fly.

"Never seen a real duel before, have you?" Zabini sneered on my left. "Malfoy'll show them…"

"Someone's going to get hurt!" I said, my voice rising. I didn't recognize a single spell that either party was using—for all I knew, the spells could be really dangerous ones.

Now the bushy-haired girl had her wand out and was covering Ron and Harry's backs. The groups of red and green-crested kids were beginning to join in, cheering for their respective sides. A few had their wand out and were firing spells of their own.

I shrank back. I definitely didn't want to be caught in the middle of a full-blown spell war—especially since the only spell I'd mastered so far was Wingardium Leviosa.

The stairway was blocked by other students who had come to see what was going on, so my only option was to find an exit down the opposite hall.

"Leaving so soon?" Zabini called over the ruckus. "Are you sure you don't want to join in? We'd be glad to have you help us fight against those blood-traitor Gryffindors…"

"I gotta go," I mumbled, and rushed away, pushing my way through the crowd, stumbling several times as I tripped over feet or knocked into students.

The spell war was full scale by now. Many of the students were shrinking back like me, stumbling away from the main action to avoid being hit by the stray curses and hexes. I wasn't watching where I was going, when suddenly…

"Watch out!"

I felt someone jerk me to my left, and I glanced up just in time to see a purple spell fly over my head and collide unpleasantly with the statue of Orphelia the Odorous.

"Are you alright?" the person inquired. I looked up to see a stocky boy with light brown hair and a turned up nose looking at me with concern in his eyes. I nodded mutely.

"Let's get out of here," he said, but before we could make our escape…

"What is going on here? Potter! Malfoy! Stop immediately!"

A tall, stern-looking witch was running toward the crowd, her black robes billowing behind her. Her hair was pulled up in a tight gray bun, and her severe glasses were teetering on the edge of her nose. "Detention! All of you!" she cried.

The effect was immediate. The spellfire ceased, and the crowd parted for her. "What is going on here?"

"Malfoy started it," Ron said loudly.

"It was Potter who cast the first spell," Malfoy argued.

"Look at you, bickering like a bunch of first years," the woman chided, her eyebrows knitted together angrily. "Can't you act your age for once in your life time? Detention, for all of you who were firing spells! And a hundred points from Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"A _hundred?_" Harry yelped. "But Professor…"

"I'll hear no more! Now go! Leave, before I take more house points away."

The crowd of students needed no second chance. As the hall cleared, I turned back to my brown-haired rescuer, but he had vanished with the rest of the crowd. I wondered if I'd only imagined him.

Unsure of which direction to go, I simply stood there uncertainly, shifting back and forth. Finally the tall woman seemed content that the students would not be continuing the duel once she left. She turned, and immediately saw me standing there.

"And who are you, young lady?"

I gulped. "Libby Rivera?" I said nervously.

Her eyes widened. "Libby? Come with me quickly, girl!"

With no better options, I followed her down the hallway, half running to keep up. The woman made two quick turns, and once she even ducked through a tapestry into a darker, smaller passage that connected with still another corridor. Finally, after descending several staircases, we reached her office.

Tonks was waiting inside. "Minerva, I really must be going soon, but it's been nice talking with you…" she started, but then she saw me.

"Libby? What are you doing here? I thought…"

"Letting her wander in the hallways, Nymphadora? What were you thinking?" 'Minerva' said angrily, and Tonks winced at the use of her given name.

"I can take care of myself," I said angrily. "I'm not two."

The older woman clicked her tongue. "Not in a spell fight, you can't."

"The students were dueling?" Tonks exclaimed. "Who?"

"None of your business," the woman snapped. But then her face softened, and the corners of her mouth crinkled into an amused smile. "Would you believe it, Tonks? Malfoy and his two goons Crabbe and Goyle actually thought they could take out Potter, Weasley, and Granger. Of course, it was a little less fair when the entire Slytherin house showed up to fight too, but the Gryffindors rushed madly into the confusion as well. Foolish, noble, brave souls…bless them all."

Tonks grinned. "Did I hear you right, Minerva? Are you actually admitting partiality to your own house?"

Minerva straightened. "Never! No one was hurt, so I took away house points from both sides and gave the perpetrators detention, but I had to do it quickly… One of the ghosts informed me that Umbridge was on her way to the scene. And for some reason Libby was there too… That could have been disastrous, if Umbridge had found out that Libby's here at Hogwarts…"

Tonks turned to me, and I raised my eyebrows at her. "Oh, sorry," she said after a long moment. "I'm so forgetful. Libby, this is Professor McGonagall, the second-in-command here at Hogwarts. She's the Head of Gryffindor and she also teaches Transfiguration."

"Nice to meet you," I said politely. "But who's Umbridge?"

The two women exchanged looks. "Just hope she's gone by the time you get to Hogwarts," Tonks muttered.

"If you're both finished here, you can use my fireplace to Floo back to your apartment," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "I'm sure Remus is pulling his hair out by now."

"True," Tonks said, frowning. "But isn't the Floo network here being monitored?"

McGonagall's face was set. "Not yet, and it never will be if I can help it," she said stiffly. "Now go, before Dolores decides to drop by my office for another one of her 'friendly' visits."

**Author's Note: **Sorry for such a long wait... Midterms and one particular Nursing final... you know.

You know what I want now...


	10. Preparations

When Tonks and I stumbled out of the fireplace, true to Professor McGonagall's prediction, Remus was waiting, nervously pacing the room. He sprang on us as soon as we appeared.

"Where were you? What took you so long? Did you run into Umbridge? What happened with Severus? Why…"

"Nothing happened. Severus was more than willing to hand over the potion," Tonks reassured him, pulling off her coat and morphing her hair back to its old colour—purple.

I snorted. Snape hadn't seemed willing to me.

"And afterwards, I stopped to have a chat with Minerva," Tonks continued. "Libby was exploring the school. All was well until one of the ghosts came with news of a fight on the fourth floor."

"A fight? What happened? Was anyone hurt?"

"You worry too much," Tonks said irritably. "It was just a fight between Harry and Draco Malfoy that got out of hand. Anyway, Libby was there."

"You were there?" Remus said, rounding on me. "Did anyone see you? Did you tell anyone who you were?"

"No, I didn't," I replied, beginning to feel irked with Remus myself. "A Slytherin boy—I think his name was Zabini—started demanding to know who I was, but I told him I was a pureblood from France checking out the school and that my name was…well, I made up a name. He seemed to believe me."

Remus's face relaxed visibly.

"But why was it so important that no one know I was there?" I said, confused.

"There's a Ministry spy at Hogwarts," Remus explained. "If one of the students happened to pass along the information that you were there, Umbridge could think that we've guessed the Ministry's plans to Obliviate you and that we'd come to Hogwarts to solicit help from certain teachers. That might lead her to believe that the Obliviate spell they perform will have no effect. The whole situation could quite frankly turn into an unmitigated disaster."

"Oh," I said a little shakily, as the whole picture was finally clear in my mind. Remus nodded, and Tonks looked somber. I bit my lip. "What do I need to do?"

* * *

For the next three hours, Tonks and Remus educated me on how to resist an Obliviate spell while under the influence of the potion. Remus even cast an Obliviate spell on me and then restored my memories so I could experience the feelings of peaceful bliss and utter abandonment that accompanied the spell.

"Oh my gosh," I muttered, as soon as the reverse spell had been cast on me. My memories of Tonks's metamorphosism had just come crashing down upon me like a hard rain in a large-scale thunderstorm. When Remus had Obliviated me, it had felt just as if a piece of my mind had vanished, and I had been left floating on a cloud of peaceful abandonment.

It was the worst thing I'd ever experienced.

"Awful, isn't it," Tonks said sympathetically, patting my arm. "We had to Obliviate each other for Auror training."

I shook my head. "And they do that to Muggles."

They exchanged glances, something they'd been doing a lot lately. But unlike most adults, I never felt like Tonks and Remus were purposely keeping secrets from me. Sure, they had top secret Order work they couldn't share with me, but I knew they'd tell me everything I needed to know.

"So now you know what it feels like," Remus said. "The Anti-Obliviate Potion will enable you to keep your memories, but you will still have to fight the spell. Fight the feeling of abandonment. When they cast the spell, you'll need to concentrate on your memories and hang on to them. Pretend that the memories are an anchor; if your anchor disappears, you'll drown. Are you following me?"

"I think so," I said.

"And afterwards," he continued, "you'll have to be very careful. I'm sure they won't use Veritiserum on you, but they'll probably question you closely to make sure your memories are really gone."

"So I just pretend that I don't know my parents are dead?" I said, frowning.

"Not exactly. You remember the feeling of being Obliviated? Just imagine that you're feeling like that, and then answer their questions. If you concentrate while they're casting the Obliviate spell, you'll be able to identify the memory modification in the spell and you'll know what they want you to say. But I think you'll fool them even if you just act confused and ignorant."

Unknowingly, I yawned.

"It's getting late," Remus said, looking up at the clock. It was already nine, and I realised that not only was I tired, I was hungry too. "I should go," he continued, "but I'll be back tomorrow morning to see you off to the Ministry."

Tonks's eyebrows furrowed together. "Remus, are you sure…?" she began. "I mean, tomorrow…"

"I'm coming," Remus said firmly. "Beside, it's not…it's not until the weekend."

"What's not until the weekend?" I asked, confused.

"Nothing to worry about," Remus said, smiling faintly. "Get some rest, Libby. You'll need every ounce of strength you've got to resist the spell."

* * *

He left soon after, and Tonks fixed burritos, a food I wasn't used too. "I'm partial to Mexican," she explained.

I munched thoughtfully on my second burrito. "Tonks, which house at Hogwarts is symbolized by the color red?"

"Gryffindor. Why?"

"No reason at all," I lied. But now I knew which house the three students sporting red crests had been in. And after watching the greens and reds fight like cats and dogs, I had no doubt about which houses I didn't want to be in. Since Ravenclaw was definitely not an option, that left only Hufflepuff.

I smiled. It was almost a relief to have made up my mind. "I'm going to be in Hufflepuff," I announced.

At first Tonks looked surprised, but realization dawned on her face. "Oh, Libby, that was just a little argument between Harry and Draco Malfoy. You shouldn't base your opinion of Gryffindor on that encounter alone." But she still looked pleased, and didn't try too hard to change my mind.

I fell asleep dreaming of the day I'd get to go to Hogwarts. I could see my magnificent black robes, a bright yellow crest on the front…

And then a mob of black-hooded monsters attacked the school. They were shooting spells like the Slytherins and Gryffindors had been doing in the hall. But these spells were causing the very stones of the school to come crashing down, one by one, on crowds of screaming students.

I saw my parents in the crowd. They were yelling my name as they struggled to reach me. I began to run, but the ground became sticky, like quicksand. One particular Death Eater—all I could see was a pair of black eyes peering out from under the frightening hood—raised a wand and muttered a spell. Then two jets of red light sped toward my parents and they fell to the ground as an unearthly laughter filled the hallways. Then the same Death Eater shouted something and a green skull appeared in the black sky above…

I woke up screaming, and once again, Tonks sat with me and stroked my hair until I fell asleep.

* * *

"Libby. Libby, wake up."

Tonks was shaking me. "Go 'way," I mumbled, burrowing even deeper under my pile of blankets. "'T's not even light outside."

"We have to be at the Ministry by seven," Tonks insisted. "So get your lazy bum out of bed and get dressed!"

"Jus' give me a minute."

She must have figured out by then that the "Just give me a minute" phrase usually meant "I'll be up in another hour or two," because the next thing I knew, a bucket of ice cold water was being poured on my face.

I jumped out of bed, sputtering and flailing my arms. Oh, she was soooo dead.

Tonks easily dodged me. It appeared that, for once, my clumsiness surpassed hers.

"Breakfast in fifteen," she said, flipping on the lights and performing that "ha ha not funny" charm that kept them on, no matter how hard I flipped the switch on and off.

Groaning, I stumbled over to my chest of drawers and pulled out a dry towel. I just had time for a shower, thanks to that handy charm Remus had taught me—the Hair-Drying charm. Drying my unruly hair was usually half the work—the other half was de-frizzing it, but I had a bottle of Miracle-Flatten I'd gotten from a Muggle drug store that worked wonders in my hair.

I was in and out of the shower in eight minutes, dressed in another two, and spent the last five minutes fixing my hair.

"Libby!" Tonks called as I approached the kitchen. "Time for…"

"I'm here, already," I grumbled, collapsing in a chair and suppressing a yawn.

Tonks looked frazzled. She practically threw a couple of fried eggs at me and snapped at me to eat them quickly, which I did. Then she stood in front of the mirror and made me give my opinion on which hair colour to wear today, and in the end picked a colour I hadn't recommended at all. Finally, she disappeared into the back bedroom to throw on her Auror robes.

I leaned back and chewed on my eggs. The fireplace rang, rather like a doorbell, alerting me that someone was coming. A moment later, a disheveled Remus stepped out of the fireplace, and I gaped at him.

He didn't look as if he's slept at all. His eyes were red and bloodshot, his hair sticking up in odd places, and his mouth surrounded by lines that hadn't been there the day before.

"Morning, Libby," he said in a cheerful voice that didn't match his appearance.

"What happened to you?" I exclaimed. "You look horrible."

"Why, thank you," Remus said dryly, then walked to the mirror. "Good heavens, Libby, you're right. This should help."

He pulled out his wand and tapped his face, muttering an incantation. Instantly, the wrinkles disappeared, and his eyes weren't so red anymore. Another spell, and his hair had flattened.

Remus walked back and sat down in the chair opposite me. "What'd you do that for?" I said, still gaping.

"That was a simple Glamour Charm," Remus said, smiling wanly. "You'll learn it when you get to your O.W.L. year. It changes the appearance of an individual in the eyes of the person beholding…"

"I don't want to know what spell," I said, frowning. "Why did you look so bad in the first place? Why are you covering it up?"

"Oh, that," Remus said dismissively. "I'm quite fine, Libby. I suppose I just didn't sleep as well last night as usual. It's nothing for you to worry about."

"But…" I began, but Tonks entered the room, carrying a furry lime green purse that clashed magnificently with her red hair.

"Morning, Tonks, or have you changed your last name to Weasley without telling me?" Remus said, and I grinned. He rarely made jokes; I was happy to see he was finally getting comfortable enough around me—or should I say Tonks—to risk an occasional crack.

Unfortunately, Tonks didn't get the joke.

"It looks horrible, doesn't it?" she wailed. "Bloody hell, we're going to be late and I look like Crookshanks!"

"Try the black again," I suggested. I'd liked her hair when we'd gone to see Snape. It wasn't quite so bright, but it made her look more distinguished.

"Really?" she said, looking doubtful.

"Black is good," I encouraged. "Right, Remus?"

Remus was studying her. Finally he said, "I don't know. I'm rather partial to the purple."

Tonks's jaw dropped, and so did mine. That was _not_ the answer I'd been expecting, and obviously the same went for her. She stared at Remus, and he met her gaze back.

"Stop lying," she said nonchalantly.

"Nothing but the truth," Remus said lightly, but I could see that underneath, he was dead serious.

They just stared at each other for the longest time.

I cleared my throat loudly, and both jumped. "Uh, we're going to be late, aren't we?"

"Right, right," Tonks said, looking flustered and confused. "I'll… I'll just go with purple, I guess."

She changed her hair and I joined her by the fireplace. "Wish us luck," she muttered to no one in particular.

Remus replied anyway. "Good luck, Libby, Tonks. I'll be waiting here when you get back."

"Look at the time," Tonks said, and with a puff of powder, we were both being twirled away on the green smoke of the Floo network.

**Author's Note: **I apologize, once again, for the long wait. It's hard trying to keep up with three—no, now it's four, soon to be five—stories. But I like variety, and I've got a lot of twists and surprises planned for this story that I hope you'll enjoy.

You know what I want now…


	11. A Trip to the Ministry

The Ministry of Magic was even more incredible on the second visit. With a flurry of green smoke, we flew out of a fireplace into the atrium.

"Stop looking like a Muggle," Tonks snapped, grabbing my arm and dragging me along with the crowd.

I pulled my jaw off the ground just long enough for a retort. "You forget that a week ago, I _was_ a Muggle." Nevertheless, I knew why she'd told me not to gape and tried to act like the ice-breathing snake in a cage and the paper airplanes flying of their own accord above our heads were normal. But when we passed three little green creatures with pointed ears, I couldn't keep my eyes from bulging.

"The Galleon-Pound exchange rate is going down," one of the creatures was saying to the other. "The President of Gringotts will not be pleased…"

"Goblins," Tonks said in a low voice, guiding me toward a row of lifts. We joined the queue of people waiting, and finally the grate clanged open.

The lift was packed. Tonks grabbed my sleeve to make sure I didn't get out with the wrong group.

"Second floor, Department of Magical Law Enforcement," the cool female voice finally rang out. The lift doors clanged open and Tonks and I stepped out. We were in a long corridor teeming with important-looking people. Several Aurors rushed past, their distinctive black robes billowing behind them. We were nearly run over by several witches arguing loudly about something indistinguishable and carrying stacks of folders and paperwork.

"Move aside, move aside," someone barked, and we jumped out of the way to let an imposing, shaggy-bearded man with thick eyebrows pass.

"He looks important," I muttered, having caught sight of the colourful paraphernalia adorning the front of his chest.

"That's Rufus Scrimgeour," Tonks told me. "Head of the Auror Department. Its best to stay out of his way.

I heard footsteps fast approaching and turned to find a stately black Auror following closely in Scrimgeour's wake.

"Kingsley," Tonks hissed, and immediately the man glanced in our direction.

"Not here," he said in a low voice, slowing his pace but keeping his face controlled. "My office, two minutes."

Tonks let him disappear into the crowd of people before grabbing my arm once again. "Let's go.

We headed down the hall in the other direction and passed three doors before coming to one that led into another smaller hallway. This corridor was lined with doors all bearing golden name plates. I figured it must be offices for those high in command. Finally, we reached the door that read, "Kingsley Shacklebolt."

To my surprise, Kingsley was waiting for us inside. "How did you…" I began, but Tonks shushed me and pulled the door closed. She sank into a nearby chair and leaned her head back against the wall.

"Gods, what a day," she groaned.

"And it's about to get worse," Kingsley warned. "I just heard from Scrimgeour that they're going to Obliviate the girl."

Tonks's face relaxed. "I know," she said. "But don't you worry, we've got it covered." She winked at me, and I gave her a "whatever-you-say" look.

Kingsley didn't press the issue. "Where's Remus, anyway? I would have thought that the Minister would demand his presence, his being the girl's tutor and all."

I frowned, but before I could say, _I _do_ have a name,_ Kingsley's face flooded with understanding. "Oh. Right, the full moon is this weekend…I should have known…"

"Kingsley!" Tonks said sharply, but the damage had already been done.

"What's the big deal about the full moon?" I asked, curious.

"This conversation is over," Tonks said. "Come, Libby, we're leaving."

"No, I want to know," I protested.

Kingsley looked thunderstruck. "Nymphadora, are you out of your mind?"

"_Don't _call me that! And I had no choice," she cried, sounding on the verge of desperation. "The Ministry didn't want her to know, especially with Remus being her tutor and all…"

"Know what?"

"But surely if she's living with you and he's over every day, she'd figure it out eventually!"

"She just found out about magic a week ago, and do you really want to overwhelm her this soon with the truth about his condition?" Tonks exclaimed.

"_Her_ name is Libby!" I shouted. "What condition?"

"Libby, Remus is a werewolf," Kingsley said steadily, and next to me, Tonks blanched.

I frowned. "A what?"

Tonks grasped my arm pleadingly. "I'm sorry, Libby, this isn't the way I would have chosen for you to find out…"

"_What is a werewolf?" _I asked again pointedly, still confused. The word sounded familiar, along with foreboding. Maybe it was some type of disease, but whatever it was, it couldn't be too bad; Remus was one of the nicest people I'd ever met in my life—easy-going and patient, and I was sure that nothing would change that.

Tonks and Kingsley exchanged looks. Finally Kingsley cleared his throat. "You've never heard of werewolves? Not even in Muggle fairy tale and fantasy stories?"

I shook my head. "I'm more into sci-fi anyway."

Obviously neither of them knew what sci-fi was, but they continued anyway.

"A werewolf is someone who turns into a feral wolf every full moon," Tonks blurted out. "But that doesn't mean anything at all, Libby. Remus is safe; he'd never hurt anyone at all, I promise…"

"I know _that_," I said impatiently. "So what's the big deal? You know, about keeping it from me and everything?"

"Most of the Wizarding population fears werewolves," Kingsley explained with a sigh. "They're treated like animals rather than people because many of them are on You-Know-Who's side. And besides that, werewolves are dangerous at the full moon if they haven't had the Wolfsbane potion. If you came across a werewolf at full moon, you'd be lucky to come out alive. And even if you did come out alive, you'd be a werewolf yourself because of the bite."

I shivered. "But Remus wouldn't' do that, would he? Bite someone."

"He wouldn't be in his right mind," Tonks said, "so he wouldn't know what he was doing."

"But he's got the potion, so he's fine," I said, and they nodded.

Just then, Kingsley glanced at the wall. "Good Merlin, Nymphadora, you and Libby had better get moving."

"Don't call me that," she said again. "How many times must I tell you that?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Kingsley said dryly. "Go, or you'll be late. Best of luck to you both."

* * *

"You're late," Margaret Edgecombe snapped when we entered her office. Two grimfaced Aurors were standing by the far wall.

I looked at the clock. We were two minutes early. I looked back at Edgecombe and tried to keep my insides from churning.

"Broden will show you out, Nymphadora," Edgecombe said coldly, and the burly Auror stepped forward to escort Tonks away. With one last glance at me, she left.

"You and I will be going to a different room," Edgecombe told me, her voice sickly sweet. "I just want to ask you a few questions, that's all."

_Yeah right,_ I wanted to say. Heart racing, I followed her out, the other Auror trailing close behind. Maybe he wanted to make sure that I didn't run.

Down the hall we went again. This time, people watched. Edgecombe went first, strutting and holding her head high. I followed, and the Auror stalked silently behind me. I felt as if I was being marched to my execution.

Finally, we reached another grimmer hall, illuminated only by bare light bulbs hanging from the low ceiling. Edgecombe stopped at a large metal door.

"This way," she said, stepping through. I entered after her, almost expecting to see a room filled with torture instrument. Instead, several bright lights reflected off a metal table and two metal chairs. Other than that, the room was bare.

"Here's a nice place to talk," Edgecombe said, smiling sickly at me. "Have a seat."

I did, feeling the sick feeling in my stomach rising up my throat. She took the chair across from me. The Auror stood menacingly by the door.

"So, Elizabeth, how are you doing?"

I blinked. "It's Libby," I said.

"Libby, then. How has your first week been in the Wizarding World?"

"Fine," I said cautiously. "Tonks has been very kind."

Edgecombe's face hardened. "Obviously she was not the best choice of a guardian for you."

"Letting me live with Tonks was the best decision your stupid Ministry has made so far," I snapped, instantly regretting my words.

But the woman didn't seem mad. Instead, a gleam appeared in her eye and she leaned forward. "I sense some…anger. What reason do you have to be angry?"

I said nothing.

"Come, come, you can tell me," Edgecombe said soothingly. "Are you angry at your tutor? At Tonks? Or is your anger because of your parents' recent deaths?"

"Don't even talk about my parents," I said quietly.

"So that's it," she said, leaning back in her chair. "Again, I'm very sorry that you were orphaned, and I can assure you that we did everything we could to prevent that sad misfortune…"

"Like hell you did," I spat. "Do you really want to help? Then warn the general population that the Death Eaters are a threat! Maybe you can prevent the next Death Eater attack on poor Muggles like my parents. But don't hide the truth!"

Edgecombe's face had gone pale. "What did Ms. Tonks and Mr. Lupin say to you?"

I reeled back, suddenly frightened that I'd gone too far. I thought fast. "Nothing I couldn't have figured out by myself," I said, keeping my voice even. "I asked who had killed my parents, and Tonks told me. As for hiding the truth, do you think that Muggles can't read? She gets the Daily Prophet. You ran an article about Bertie Bott's new cheese-flavored beans, but not a single word about the attack reached even the back page."

"We must not alarm the general public!" Edgecome said, her face red now. "I suppose Tonks supported you in your foolish view."

"That's the only thing we ever disagreed about," I said, trying to sound bitter. I definitely didn't want to get Tonks or Remus in trouble. "She said that it was for the best that no one knew, but I think that by covering it up, my parents will have died in vain! Everyone should know!"

"That's it," Edgecombe roared, rising from the table. "Foolish girl, I see now that you are a threat to the general public. You haven't fooled me; I can see right through your façade. Your poisonous ideas and disrespect for authority lead me to the only sensible conclusion I can come to: there is only one option that will solve this once and for all."

A second later, my metal chair had grown shackles and the cold metal rings had encircled my wrists. Before I could even scream, my feet were magically shackled to the floor. This was turning into a nightmare.

"What are you going to do?" I cried, my voice rising. Tonks and Remus had told me to pretend I was scared, and I had been worried about my less-than-convincing acting skills; but this…this was different. I'd have no trouble acting frightened—I was genuinely terrified.

"The only thing I can do," Edgecombe replied, a strange, unnatural gleam in her eye. "Obliviate you."

"What? You can't! Isn't that what you do to Muggles? Are you going to wipe all my memories?" I babbled.

"Yes, I'm going to take your memories away," Edgecombe said, a cold smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "You've proved yourself incapable of keeping Ministry secrets, so it is the only option."

"You'll never get away with it! I'm not the only one who knows about the Death Eater attack," I argued.

"But they won't tell," she said confidently. "We have charms to ensure that."

If only she knew the truth. The whole situation was ironic: she thought that in Obliviating me, she'd eradicated the root of the problem, but in reality even more people had found out the truth because of her actions—like Snape and McGonagall, for example.

"It's probably illegal," I protested.

"In this case, the Minister has given me complete jurisdiction. I am the law."

"Don't you think we can talk about this first?" I said reasonably. "Can't I just promise that I won't talk about it?"

"That's not the way it works, Elizabeth."

I looked around the room, looking for an escape. The Auror still stood by the door, watching the whole scene with emotionless, unblinking eyes.

I turned back to Edgecombe and let my shoulders slump in seeming defeat. "Will…will it hurt?" I said in a tiny voice.

"Not a bit," she said, and surprisingly enough her voice softened.

"What will I forget? Everything?" I asked piteously.

"All your memories of your parents, the Death Eater attack, Tonks, Lupin, and everything you've seen and heard today."

"But that's everything! I…I won't even know who I am anymore."

"Don't worry," she said calmingly. I don't know why she thought she could calm me down, though; I was chained to a metal chair. "Your memories will be supplemented with others."

"Like what? What are you going to make me?"

Edgecombe sighed. "You won't remember this in a few minutes, but I suppose it couldn't hurt to tell you anyway. You'll be Elizabeth Cree, British by birth, but a half-blood who grew up with your Muggle mother after your magical father died when you were small. She didn't want you going to Hogwarts or finding out about magic, but after her death, your accidental magic couldn't be ignored anymore. It's the perfect disguise, because you can tell people Cree is your mother's maiden name and you never learned your father's surname."

"Perfect for who?" I said bitterly, but I was impressed. She had really thought the story through. No questions would be asked. And if they were, I would have to stick to the story because I'd think it was the truth.

If only she'd considered the fact that Tonks and I might just second guess her move and act first.

"Will I still live with Tonks and have Remus as my tutor?" I said, worried.

Edgecombe made a face. "Unfortunately, they are all we've got, so they'll have to do until we can find a proper family to take you in. Now, say good bye to Elizabeth Rivera."

She pulled out her wand, and I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to see the spell coming at me. As I quickly reviewed my life, I was struck by the enormity of what I would loose if the potion didn't work. Not only would I loose my memories, I'd loose my identity, my personality, my character.

"Obliviate."

The spell swept over me, but unlike the night before, I wasn't suddenly lightheaded and cheerful. Instead, I was instantly thrown into the world of my mind. I could feel the spell dislodging, pulling, removing my memories, but this time, I was able to do something about it. I mentally lassoed my memories and hung on. It was the toughest battle I'd ever fought. The spell was persistent, wearing me down, but finally it retreated into the dark corners of my mind, leaving my past intact.

Then another spell appeared. This one was a tidal wave of pictures, names, places, dates, facts, people… I was amazed at the detail of the life Edgecombe had planned for me. The memories came crowding up to my mind, but it was already full of the recollections that were supposed to have been destroyed in the prior spell. Instead of dispelling these memories, though, I browsed them before letting them disappear.

I was twelve, and in school when a boy had tried to see up my skirt, his shirt had mysteriously caught on fire. My mother was lying on her death bed, just weeks before, telling me the secret behind my strange capabilities. I was being brought to the Ministry by Dawlish, Edgecombe had allowed me to stay in her home for a week as she searched for someone else to take me in permanently…

More details crowded my mind. I loved the color pink. In the second grade, I'd liked a boy named Dennis. We'd moved a lot during my childhood. My favorite movie was _Star Wars…_

Well, at least she'd gotten one detail right. The spell was fading, and I let go of the last of the modified memories without regret.

My surroundings began to come back into focus, and Edgecombe's face swam before me.

"Where…where am I?" I said groggily. The bonds were gone from the chair, and for a second I was afraid that the spell had somehow changed things in reality…

No. Nothing had changed. I was still in the bare room with metal furniture. My name was still Elizabeth Rivera. Tonks was still waiting somewhere out there for me.

Unless they'd Obliviated her too.

The thought struck fear in me. I had to get out of here…I had to find her or Remus…

"Margaret?" I said. In the modified life, I'd called her Margaret. I'd liked her. I'd trusted her. _Devious little cockroach._

"Elizabeth, stay still. You just got hit on the head," she said soothingly.

"Where am I?"

"The Ministry of Magic. What's your last name?"

"Cree," I said dully, allowing my eyes to slide out of focus again.

"What happened to your mother?"

"She…she died, I think… Cancer…"

Edgecombe looked as satisfied as a cat. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but you cannot stay with me any longer. But I've found you a young Auror who's agreed to take you in if she has room… The Ministry will make sure you have proper tutoring, and in a few months, perhaps you can go to Hogwarts."

"I'm…leaving?"

"Yes. Now. Come."

I allowed her to guide me to the door, stumbling a little in the threshold. "Stupid brat," Edgecombe muttered under her breath. "This way, dear," she said, a little louder.

Tonks was waiting in the next hallway. Her hair was all messed up, and she looked as if she'd been pacing. Auror Broden stood unsmilingly, watching her.

"Nymphadora? Your charge has arrived," Edgecombe said coldly.

Tonks spun around and took a few steps forward, then stopped. Playing the part, I backed up a little, trying to look scared. "Margaret, who is this?"

"This is Nymphadora Tonks. I'm sure you two will get along beautifully," she said, gently pushing me forward. "I hope to see you again when you've finished your catch-up schooling," she said, the retreated, beckoning the Aurors to follow her.

"This way, Elizabeth," Tonks said stiffly, eying me with nervous eyes. Casting longing glances at Edgecombe, I followed Tonks down the hall and through the end door.

We joined the crowds rushing through the corridor. Reaching the lifts, Tonks pushed the button, and a moment later, the grates opened into an empty lift.

The doors clanged shut, and Tonks immediately turned to me. "Libby?" she said tentatively.

"What?" I said, grinning.

She let out a sigh of relief. "Oh Merlin, Libby, I thought that the potion hadn't worked. We did it!"

"We did," I agreed, and Tonks threw her arms around me. But then the lift slowed, and I resumed my passive "I've just been Obliviated" stance. It wasn't until we'd made it back through the Atrium and through the fireplace into Tonks's apartment that I gave a whoop of delight.

"I'm Libby Rivera, and I want to tell the world!" I cried, dancing around Tonks's living room.

Remus was there too; evidently he'd been waiting for us all that time. "I wouldn't go shouting that too loud," he said dryly. "I'd imagine that you'd have quite a few upset Ministry officials if they discovered that you thwarted their plans."

"So pessimistic," Tonks sighed, sinking back onto the sofa. "Honestly, Remus, can't we just celebrate? Drinks all around!"

"I'll get them," I volunteered happily, and skipped to the kitchen, only to return with several bottles of Meade (something I'd been dying to try) and wine.

"You can't have alcohol; you're underage!" Tonks protested as I popped the cap off the wine and filled a glass.

"Just this once," I whined, half expecting Remus to take Tonks's side. TO my amazement, though, he took mine.

"Once can't hurt, Nymphadora. Besides, we do have something to celebrate," he said, winking at me.

I sighed contentedly and sank back onto the couch. Right about now, it felt as if nothing could dampen my mood. I'd learned Remus's secret, fooled the Ministry, and tricked Margaret Edgecombe spectacularly, all in one day.


	12. Celebration

We held a party at Tonks's apartment that night.

Of course the guest list was limited to the three of us, though Tonks suggested inviting Snape to join in our celebration.

"That would be the day," Remus said dryly as I laughed at the mere absurdity of her idea.

"We could make him wear a party hat and eat cake and ice cream," Tonks said, sticking her head into the freezer. "Hey Libby, do you think he'd like chocolate or vanilla?"

"Chocolate," I said confidently. "He always struck me as a chocolate person."

Remus snorted.

"We don't have either," Tonks said dejectedly. "I'm all out."

"Isn't there a Muggle grocery store down the street?" Remus suggested, and Tonks's face brightened.

"I'll be right back," she said, snatching her purse from the counter and shrugging off her Auror robes. Underneath were a pair of trendy jeans and a yellow t-shirt.

Remus clicked his tongue and Tonks sent him a withering look. "Oh shut it. Everyone at work wears comfortable clothes underneath these awful robes. I happen to know that Dawlish has a favorite pair of Muggle Superman sweatpants he always wears to work."

Maybe I was just giddy with relief, or maybe I was still a little tipsy from the wine because I found her last statement hilariously funny and collapsed into the armchair, howling with laughter at the mental picture. Even Remus cracked a smile as Tonks disappeared out the front door.

I laid my head back against the chair, still grinning, although it'd been hours since we'd returned. My smile seemed to be stuck permanently on my face.

Remus dropped into the chair across from me, his smile fading as he tried unsuccessfully to hide a wince. I looked him over and was unsettled to see that he was looking considerably worse than he had that morning. His eyes were becoming a little bloodshot, his hair more messy than before, and his hands were trembling. Obviously the glamour charm had worn off.

"Are…are you sure you're OK?" I asked, and a faint smile flashed across his face.

"I'm alright. Don't worry about me."

"But it'll get worse, won't it? Before this weekend," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Remus froze. There was a long awkward silence, and then, "Did Nymphadora tell you?"

"It was Kingsley," I whispered, my face growing hot.

He looked stricken. "Libby… I…I mean, if you want a different tutor, I'll understand…I'll tell the Ministry and they can find you another…"

I was horrified. "No! No, Remus, no, that wasn't what I meant! I really don't care. Really."

Remus leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. "You should," he said in a broken voice. "You don't understand…how could you? I'm dangerous."

"No, you're not," I said, my voice shaking only a little. "Only at the full moon, and then you've got that potion Kingsley mentioned."

"I shouldn't even be here…"

"I'm not going to let you go resign!" I insisted. "Remus, you're a great teacher! With someone else it'd take three times as long for me to learn, and I'd never get caught up in time. As for your being a Werewolf, read my lips: I. Don't. Care."

"But…"

"End of conversation," I said firmly, and thanked my lucky stars that my stubborn streak came in handy once in a while.

He raised his head and smiled. "You remind me a lot of someone I used to go to school with," he said.

"Who?"

He sighed. "Lily Evans."

I frowned. "Wait—Harry's mom?"

"That's the one."

"What was she like?" I asked, inwardly wondering if everything in the end came back to Harry. But I pushed this thought away, knowing it wasn't fair to Remus—he'd been Harry's dad's best friend.

"She was fiery," Remus reminisced, a distant look on his face. "Had a temper that could frighten even the bravest bloke at Hogwarts. But she was also very loyal and passionate about the things that were important to her." He turned back to me. "Do you know that she knew I was a werewolf for six years and never said anything? She didn't treat me any differently, didn't tell anyone my secret during school, and covered my back even when I was best friends with her worst enemies—Sirius and James. When she and James got together in seventh year, we still decided to keep it a secret, but one night Sirius got…injured. And they couldn't take him to the Infirmary because they'd ask too many questions. So Peter and James pulled Lily out of her bed in the middle of the night and dragged her down to the Quidditch changing rooms to help Sirius before he bled to death. She took one look at him and said, 'Is Remus OK?' James said he'd never been more shocked in his life. She'd known about what we'd been doing all along."

"Wow," I said quietly. "Tell me more."

"She was a genius at school," Remus continued. "Top marks in almost all her classes except for Defence. That was my specialty," he added, turning a little red. "She was best at Potions."

"But of course Snape wasn't the teacher back then," I pointed out. Tonks had told me stories of her least favorite class at Hogwarts.

"Back then, she was competing against Severus," Remus corrected me.

"What's this about Severus?" Tonks called from the kitchen, and I looked up just in time to see her kick the door shut and dump a large brown bag of groceries on the table. "Did you invite him after all?"

"Oh, yeah," I said. "He said he'll be right over once he finishes his bubble bath and paints his nails."

"Honestly, you two," Remus chided as Tonks laughed. "Severus has been very kind. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have had someone to make me Wolfsbane potion you wouldn't have ever found an Anti-Obliviate potion in time."

"So, he's a slightly helpful git instead of the regular kind," I said, and Tonks agreed with a large grin.

"Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, or cookie dough?" she asked us.

"You really went all out," Remus remarked dryly.

"Strawberry and chocolate," I said.

"Coming right up," the Metamorphagus called. "Remus?"

"Cookie dough."

A minute later Tonks entered balancing three bowls of ice cream. I anticipated what would happen and jumped up, dashing for her just as she tripped over the edge of the rug.

I caught the ice cream bowls. "Nice," Remus commented, looking impressed.

"When will you guys have enough faith in me to let me carry more than one bowl at a time?" Tonks complained.

"The day you actually make it from the kitchen to the living room without tripping over, dropping, or bumping into something," said Remus, a faint smile curling the corners of his mouth.

Tonks plopped down in an armchair and pouted, arms crossed. But she soon snapped out of it and reached for her bowl—vanilla.

"Mmmmmm," I said, shoveling ice cream into my mouth. I paused. "We need music."

Tonks flicked her wand at the radio on the mantle, and it crackled to life. Some man crooned a song I'd never heard before. _Baby, when you look at me, I feel the magic flow…_

"What is this?" I asked distastefully.

"We used to listen to Paul Rock in my day," Remus said, tilting his head towards the radio.

"Really?" Tonks frowned. "I've never heard him before."

"And yet another evidence of how much older I am than you—both of you," Remus said mildly. Yet I thought I caught a pointed tone in his voice, and his eyes rested for just a moment on Tonks, who suddenly looked a bit angry.

"Can't you pick up any Muggle stations?" I pleaded. "This music is driving me crazy."

Not looking at Remus, Tonks rose stiffly and went to the radio. She turned a few knobs, and suddenly Gwen Stefani's voice burst forth. _If I could escape, a__nd re-create a place as my own world__, a__nd I could be your favorite girl__…_

"I love this song!" I exclaimed, determined to lighten the mood that had darkened, not unlike an unwanted cloud on a sunny day.

Tonks was beginning to nod her head to the beat. "It's not bad," she said, and began to sway.

Impulsively, I jumped up and pushed the chair I'd been sitting on away. "Dance with me!"

"I can't dance!" Tonks laughed, as I began to move in time to the music.

"Everyone can dance," I argued. "Come on!"

"Remus, if you ever tell anyone, I'll murder you," Tonks muttered to the older man, who was gasping back laughter as she began to sway to the music as well. She was a little clumsier, a little less fluid, but her style of dancing was quite different from the Muggle way I'd learned. I liked it.

We were a bit awkward at first, laughing as we knocked into each other more than once in the limited space. But then the song changed and the tempo increased. Tonks kicked off her shoes and started dancing faster. I clapped delightedly as she expertly pulled off a complicated twist.

"Can you teach me?" I called over the noise.

She stopped. "Teach you?"

"That move. The twisty one you just did."

Tonks grinned. "Dunno." She tried it again, but this time the move didn't look right. She frowned.

"Was it like this?" I asked helpfully, attempting the maneuver. The results were doubly disastrous.

"Oh, this is hopeless," she said, but suddenly her face brightened. "I know why I can't do it right—it's usually a move you perform in a two-person dance. Remus! Come help me."

"What? Oh, no, not that…Nymphadora…" The look on the werewolf's face was priceless as he stuttered excuses.

Tonks's face, however, had become a mask of determination, hardening at the use of her hated name. "I was going to let you out easy, but the name was the last straw." She stalked toward him and with unexpected strength, dragged him from his chair.

"I can't… But I don't know how…" Remus was still fumbling with excuses as Tonks stopped in the middle of the open floor space.

She turned him toward her. "Please? Remus? Just this once?"

At first, I thought he was going to refuse. But then he melted, just as any normal bloke would when Tonks put on her infamous puppy-dog look. The effect was, of course, not quite so complete when Tonks took a step backwards, tripped over nothing at all, and sprawled ungracefully on the carpet.

Remus laughed and helped her up. "I don't think I know this," he said, as Tonks positioned herself facing him.

"Sure you do," she encouraged. "Remember that one time in the club with Sirius and Hestia…"

"Nymphadora…" Remus said quickly, suddenly turning a little red. "The dance?"

Under normal conditions, I would have immediately insisted on more information regarding the prior topic, but I really wanted to learn the dance move.

"Right," said Tonks, grinning cheekily at him. "Ready? One, two, three, four…."

She grasped his hands, stepping forward, then backwards, in time with the beat. Side to side, arms out, and then he spun her in a fancy little pirouette that ended with her facing him.

"Marvelous!" I cried, clapping. "Again!"

So they did it again, and again. The third time, Tonks threw in a hip thrust that made me clap even harder.

The song ended, and I groaned in disappointment. "But that's the advantage of having a Wizarding radio," Tonks said, stepping away from Remus, who looked a little red in the face. Was he blushing? I couldn't tell. Tonks flicked her wand at the radio, and to my delight, the song started over again.

"Again!" I insisted, and they complied. This time, Tonks talked me through each step, and when she finished, she stepped aside. Nervously, I took Remus's hands, and Tonks counted.

"One, two, three, four…"

I didn't do too badly, but I did miss a few steps. Tonks and Remus coached me until I could do the move perfectly. The song was on the fourth repeat.

"I want to see you do it again," I begged.

Neither seemed to have any objections. In fact, Tonks seemed eager to dance with Remus again, and I wondered if he felt the same way.

The song was repeated a fifth time. At the end of the tenth repetition of the move they'd taught me, Tonks started to pull away, but to my amazement, Remus kept a hold on her wrists and unexpectedly twirled her again. Her face lit up like the lights on a Christmas tree as she spun yet again and twisted, her feet flying over the ground.

They had completely forgotten about me. I watched, entranced as they moved in perfect time, breaking eye contact only for moves that required it. Back and forth, side to side, dancing apart, then together… Tonks's face was flushed, Remus's expression unreadable. The song ended, and they stopped, but neither made a move to restart it. They simply stood there, gazing into each other's eyes as if trying to read the very depths of the other's soul.

Then, Remus unexpectedly stumbled, barely catching himself on the edge of sofa. Tonks and I both gasped, but he waved us away as he painfully lowered himself into the seat. "I'm just not used to that much activity, not on the night before the full moon…"

"Oh Merlin, Remus, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to dance, I didn't remember about tomorrow…" Tonks babbled.

He smiled weakly. "No, no, it's fine. I should have stopped earlier. Besides, it was fun. And you did marvelously, Libby."

I grinned. Then there was a moment of awkward silence before Tonks said, "Who wants more ice cream?"

The following day, Remus didn't come. He did, however, send over a parchment of homework assignments for me to complete.

"What's the good of having a werewolf tutor if you don't even get a break over full moon?" I complained, dejectedly pushing my eggs around the plate.

Tonks looked up from the stove. "Do you want to go to Hogwarts or not?"

That shut me up, but didn't prevent me from glaring at her back when she turned again to the frying pan. "Besides, you had all day off yesterday."

"I'd hardly call be obliviated a day off," I protested, but nothing I said would sway her.

"I'll be back for lunch, then home at five," Tonks told me as she lingered next to the fireplace. "Then we'll practice Potions."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered as she disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

That day and the following two days were very dull. I nearly drove Tonks crazy. I'd never been so relieved in my entire life to see Remus step out of the fireplace on Monday morning, looking only a little worse for the wear.

"Remus!" I squealed, dropping every pretense of maturity I'd built up prior to his appearance and knocking over my chair in my haste to hug him.

"Thank God," Tonks called from the bathroom. A moment later she appeared in the doorway. "Remus, she's been driving me bonkers!"

"And obviously you've been rubbing off on her," Remus commented, raising an eyebrow at the tipped chair. "So did you study Transfiguration?"

"You haven't seen me for three days and that's the first thing you ask?" I grumbled. "Fine. Yes, I did."

He smiled wanly, but his eyes were serious. "Your education is paramount to anything else right now. I got an owl from the Ministry warning me that they'll be around in a few weeks to make sure I'm really teaching you what you need to know. So unless you'd prefer that the Ministry choose a different tutor, I'd recommend we start lessons right away."

I nodded, sobered by the gravity of the situation. I certainly did _not_ want another teacher. "I'll go get my books."

**Author's Note: **Here you go! An update! Next chapter, things will be going more quickly. Three more chapters, maybe four, and hopefully I'll have Libby at Hogwarts and the action will increase.


	13. Besting the Ministry

"What's the next ingredient, Libby?"

The ticking clock was seriously distracting me as I hovered uncertainly over the cauldron of bright yellow potion. Scattered on the counter was an assortment of herbs, dried animal parts, and other strange objects. Remus crossed his arms. "Libby?"

"Sassafras?" I said timidly.

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Sassafrass," I said, only slightly more confidently, and quickly dropped the sprig into the cauldron. I gave the mixture a quick stir as the timer buzzed.

"Very good," Remus congratulated, and I grinned. It had been four weeks since my visit to the Ministry of Magic, and since the incident I had devoted myself religiously to studying. The threat of a Ministry evaluation of my progress had spurred my determination. Remus and Tonks said I was doing well, though I wasn't sure if they were just saying it to make me feel better and work harder. I had always done reasonably well in school with an average of B's, but I had never really had to work for my grades. I'd preferred to focus my attention on sports and extracurricular activities. Now that I was obliged to put everything I had into my studies, I was discovering the totally different side of me—the studious side.

Not that I was a success in everything I attempted. I seemed to be hitting a roadblock when it came to spells. It took me hours and hours to achieve the most basic of charms and Transfiguration spells. After four weeks, I had only just mastered "Lumos."

Fortunately, the other classes were a slightly different story. Herbology was my specialty. Although I wasn't able to actually take care of all the plants I read about, Tonks and Remus brought home as many as possible and I grew them on the balcony overlooking the busy street below. Potions was a bit more difficult, but I did alright as long as I thought of it like cooking a particularly hard recipe. The ingredients were fascinating and disgusting at the same time. Since I had opted not to take History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures, the only other class I wasn't required to perform spells for yet was Defense Against the Dark Arts. This class was also very interesting, though more frightening when coupled with Remus's eyewitness stories of the first war against Voldemort. We started out with learning about dark creatures and broader concepts of light verses dark, but to my surprise, Remus also insisted that I learn how to identify dangerous curses, including the Unforgivables.

"Why do I need to know this?" I asked him one day after he'd taught me to recognize the characteristics of a Slicing Hex. We were in the extra room of Tonks's apartment, and Remus had erected spell-absorbing shields on every wall so he could demonstrate the spells for me. "Surely this isn't first year material."

"No, it's not," he admitted reluctantly. "But you need to know it."

"But why?" I pressed, leaning forward in my observation seat. "You don't expect me to be fighting Death Eaters any time soon, do you?"

"Of course not," Remus said, but when I further pressed the matter, he still wouldn't give me a definite answer.

When I asked Tonks about it later, she looked serious. "He's just preparing you, Libby. No one knows what might happen tomorrow. With You-Know-Who back, we think…" She lowered her voice. "We think that soon there will be another war. It can't hurt to be prepared."

"But I'm only fourteen," I protested.

"The war won't just affect adults," Tonks told me, her face grave. "It'll affect everyone. If you end up staying with me, you'll be at the very center of the fighting. Remus and I care about you as if you were a blood relative, and we'll do our best to keep you safe, but even Hogwarts isn't danger-free."

This surprised me. "But Dumbledore…"

"Dumbledore is just a man, Libby," she said, sighing as she laid down the basket of laundry she'd pulled from the Muggle dryer. "He does his best, and no one can deny that he's the greatest Wizard alive, but he can't do everything, especially with the Ministry meddling at every step. He's powerful, but even he couldn't stop You-Know-Who from possessing Quirrel, attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone, and trying to kill Harry _again. _He couldn't prevent the Basilisk attacks the following year and Ginny's possession, and last year he didn't know there was a Death Eater in disguise among his own staff last year."

I felt disconcerted. I felt safe with Tonks—she was an Auror, after all—but I had also counted on the safety of Hogwarts when I finished my education here.

Tonks patted my arm sympathetically. "I know how you feel. Don't worry—there's not a large risk for your safety at Hogwarts. All I'm saying is, despite your age, it would be wise to be as prepared as possible. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were only first years when they fought a troll and mastered the puzzles guarding the Stone. Ron and Harry were second years when they went into the Chamber of Secrets to fight the Basillisk, and Harry was your age when he fought off You-Know-Who himself.

I shuddered. "The war really does touch everyone, doesn't it?"

Tonks was silent, and when she finally spoke, her voice had a slight catch in it. "You of all people should know that, Libby," she said softly. "The war has already changed your life in ways many of us can't fully understand. I doubt any of the other students at Hogwarts have lost both parents to Death Eater attacks, aside from Harry, and he doesn't remember his parents' deaths like you do. I'm afraid sometimes that the second war will be like the first. I was young, but I remember it vividly. So many people died. Each day of life was a gift that might be ripped away in a heartbeat. The only Order members you know so far are Remus and me, but when you meet the rest you'll soon learn that we've all had losses and made our own sacrifices. Remus's own mother was killed by the same Werewolf who bit him. Molly Weasley lost two brothers in the first war, Kingsley's wife was killed in an attack, and Alice and Frank Longbottom were tortured into insanity from the Cruciatus curse. But it's not just the Order members who have been affected. Hundreds of Muggles have died, and the repercussions of the feud that's been going on between the Purebloods and those with Muggle blood has affected the entire Wizarding society for centuries. Those with "pure" blood are more likely to be chosen for jobs at the Ministry, less likely to be convicted of crimes, and thought as generally more intelligent and magical than the lesser wizards with Muggle blood in their veins. My own mother was disowned from the Black family for marrying a Muggleborn wizard. Don't you see, if we can put an end to You-Know-Who and his Pureblood regime, maybe we can end the prejudice and discrimination that has dominated our lives for so many years."

For the first time, I felt like I really understood the depth and reality of the war. This wasn't just about two groups quarreling over petty differences. This war affected everyone on a deeply personal issue. These were people's lives we were talking about, not just ideals and principles.

"Will we win?" I whispered, finally looking up to meet her eyes, and I wasn't surprised to see a few stray tears slipping down her cheeks. My face was slightly damp as well.

"We'll win," she murmured fervently.

"How do you know?" I pressed.

"We'll win because we _must_ win. We can't go on living like this much longer."

The conversation with Tonks cleared up a lot of things in my mind, but it also left me wondering where I fit into everything. Would things change if the bloodline tests came back showing that I was in fact a Pureblood? What about a Muggleborn?

But the most frightening thought of all was that the results would show nothing at all. More than anything else, I wanted to know who I was. If the blood tests couldn't tell me, I'd be left with nothing—nothing on which to build my identity.

These thoughts plagued me as weeks turned into months and September slipped quietly into October. The leaves changed colours, and the weather turned cool and crisp. Outside, endless days of clear skies of bright sunlight indicated nothing of the turmoil I felt inside. I said nothing, though, and threw myself completely into my studies, so much so that Remus and Tonks began to make subtle hints that perhaps I was taking education too seriously.

They couldn't argue against my success, however. By mid-October, I had "graduated" from the first year in the subjects of Potions, Herbology, Defense, and Charms. That left only Transfiguration, but Remus assured me that I only had a few more spells to master before I would be considered an "official" second year. I was glad, but a little disappointed that it had taken me nearly two complete months to finish—at this rate, it seemed like I'd never get to Hogwarts.

I was content and happy. My life was in order once again.

And then, as always, the Ministry had to interfere.

It was early one morning at the apartment. I was up, dressed, and eating breakfast when Remus stumbled in, yawning and disheveled.

"Morning," I greeted him, swallowing the last of my orange juice.

He merely grunted, stumbling over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug.

"Are you OK?" I asked uncertainly.

"Fine," he said, draining the cup in several gulps and making a face. "I didn't sleep much last night."

I frowned. Tonks and Remus went on guard duty for the Order once or twice a week, but refused to tell me exactly what they were protecting. I worried, though, when Tonks could hardly drag herself to work in the morning and Remus came to lessons looking as he did.

Fortunately, the black coffee seemed to help, and Remus was soon his normal self as we dove into folding and ironing charms.

Halfway through the morning, the doorbell rang.

Remus looked at me. "Who's that?"

I shrugged. "How would I know?"

The doorbell rang again. "This can't be good," he muttered, rising from his seat. I followed him to the door, but neither of us were prepared for what awaited up on the other side.

Four Ministry officials wearing uniform robes with shiny badges stood in the small corridor. Unfortunately, I recognized the simpering woman in the front. "Margaret," I said, pasting a smile on my face. "So good to see you!"

"Likewise, dear," she replied, flashing me a smile that made my stomach churn.

"Miss Edgecombe," Remus said cordially. "What brings you here today?"

"Concerns, Mr. Lupin," she said coldly.

Remus's eyes narrowed. "Of what nature?"

It wasn't Edgecombe who spoke, but a shorter, plumper woman with horn-rimmed glasses and a squashed face. I immediately didn't like her or her fuchsia-pink robes. "Concerns about the quality of education Elizabeth is receiving," she said.

"Dolores," Remus said, his face hardening, though remaining polite. "It's a pleasure, but I'm surprised that a little Ministry check-up would pull you away from your duties at Hogwarts."

"She'll be my student soon, so I intend to make it my business," Umbridge said stiffly.

Remus inclined his head. "Please, all of you, feel free to come in."

The two witches entered, following by a short, nervous-looking man and a broad, square-jawed witch with very short gray hair and thick eyebrows. The last witch nodded shortly to Remus, who closed the door behind her and turned to me.

"Be very, very careful," he murmured to me before turning to the four guests perched on the sofas. "Drinks, anyone?"

"I think not," said Umbridge. "I think we'd better just get back to what the original reason for our visit, Mr. Lupin."

"And that is?"

"Our concern that Miss Cree isn't receiving the best quality of education."

"Ah."

"We're not questioning your teaching abilities," the man said, twisting his hands.

"Of course not."

"But we're here to run a few tests, just to make sure that she's learning what she needs to," the broad witch who'd introduced herself as Amelia Bones said stiffly.

"All for your best interest, dearie," Edgecombe said, squeezing my shoulder fondly.

There was a long, awkward silence. "Well, let's get this over with," Bones said, clapping her hands together. "Elizabeth, can you use your knowledge of Charms to make this pencil move across the table?"

The exam, to my relief, was relatively easy. Umbridge seemed to be getting more and more annoyed as I correctly demonstrated Switching Spells and simple transfigurations, and then brewed Forgetfulness Potion and burn salve. Bones's eyebrows shot up when I could not only answer questions about Mandrakes and Abyssinian shrivelfigs, but also Puffapods, a third year plant.

Umbridge and Edgecombe seemed determined to come up with a question I couldn't answer as they started asking me about more and more advanced subjects. Finally, when they got to a second year Transfiguration spell, I had to admit that I didn't know.

"Ah, but Remus should have taught you that one," Umbridge said, a purely evil smile spreading over her face. "I'm afraid…"

"That's ridiculous," Bones said sharply to Umbridge. "That spell is in the latter half of second year curriculum. We all agreed before we came that if the girl was even halfway through first year material, she'd be progressed well enough for the amount of time she's condensing her studies into."

"But…"

"I've seen enough," Bones said, sending a pointed glare at the other two women. "I will report my findings to the Minister first thing this afternoon, and I think we can all agree that Miss Cree's education is not to be questioned again. Am I correct?"

Umbridge sputtered, Edgecombe grew red, but the shorter man was nodding. Bones looked satisfied. "Then I apologize, Remus, for our taking up valuable teaching time. You are doing a wonderful job, and I congratulate you and your student on her remarkable progress."

With that, she walked out the front door, followed closely by the other three. Not until the door finally shut behind the four did I finally collapse into the sofa and let out a long breath.

Remus wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. "Congratulations, Libby. You've just passed the most stressful test you'll ever take."

"Oh, god, I thought for sure they were going to find some reason to fire you and I'd be stuck with that witch for a teacher!"

Remus's eyebrows shot up. "You do remember that you're a witch too, right, Libby?"

I grinned. "I still forget sometimes. In the Muggle world, 'witch' doesn't mean the same thing."

"Well, you did wonderful on the test."

"Couldn't have done it without you," I said honestly.

I was too giddy with relief to study, so Remus and I hit the kitchen to make some real food for lunch. Not that I was great with cooking, but to my surprise, Remus wasn't half bad. He made great pasta.

"What's the occasion?" Tonks said as she stepped out of the fireplace, sniffing the air.

"Libby here passed the Ministry-administered progress exam this morning," Remus said, and Tonks's jaw dropped.

"What…when…they came _here?_" she sputtered, dropping her bag.

Remus took a deep breath. "They came here," he said, nodding. "Bones, Umbridge, Edgecombe, and Teeter. They came, they tested, and Libby did marvelously."

Tonks finally shut her mouth. "That's great!" she said, bounding over and hugging me. "I just can't believe that they came _here. _And Umbridge…" She shuddered. "I can't believe that horrible, horrible woman came into my house and sat on _my _couch." She shook her head unbelievingly. "I think I need to disinfect this house."

I laughed. "Umbridge-cooties," I teased, and Tonks shivered again.

"Well," said Remus, "unless you two fancy eating cold ravioli…"

"Yes, of course," Tonks said, shrugging off her heavy Auror robes. Then she paused, and pulled something out of her pocket. "Oh, I almost forgot. A letter from my dear old mum inviting Libby and I to dinner."

"Your mum?" I asked curiously. "When?"

"Wednesday evening," Tonks told me unenthusiastically. "I'm sorry, Remus…she didn't invite you, but I'm sure it's not intentional…."

Remus smiled faintly. "It's alright, Nymphadora. Really. I'm used to it by now."

"But…"

"It's fine," he said pointedly. "Honestly. Now, shall we have lunch?"

**A/N: **Another update. Yay. Next time, more action. Maybe an Azkaban breakout…hint hint….

You know what I want now….


	14. Something to Fight For

"What wand motion would I use if I wanted to turn this pebble into a pencil?"

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Remus and I were in the living room with a whole plethora of objects spread out on the table. I was almost finished with first-year Transfiguration, but my mind was wandering. The clock on the wall seemed to have broken, and it felt as if time itself had stopped.

I tried desperately to reign my mind back in. Foster's four rules of Transfiguration said that an object is most easily transfigured into something of the same shape and size. A pencil certainly wasn't the same shape as a pebble, but most likely the mass was the same. So the answer must be either circling or swishing…but which was it?

"Circling?" I guessed, and to my relief, he nodded.

"And what if I were to transfigure the pebble into a rubber ball? What spell would I...?"

But my attention span had ended. "What's Tonks's mum like?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, interrupting him mid-sentence.

Remus set the pebble down, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "So_that's_ what this is about."

I blushed. "Sorry…I'll try harder…"

"No, no, I think a break is long overdue," Remus decided. "You're too apprehensive to study now, anyway. Are you nervous about tonight?"

I thought, then slowly shook my head. "More excited, I think. I haven't been anywhere in what seems like months and…" I hesitated, and he motioned for me to go on. "Not that you and Tonks are boring, but I used to go to school where I was with thousands of people each day. I've never experienced social isolation like this before."

Remus leaned back in his chair and gave me a sympathetic look. "What you really need are some friends your own age instead of hanging around us all day long."

To this, of course, I protested, but Remus waved my objections aside. "Libby, believe it or not, I was once your age. If I were you, I wouldn't want to spend day in and day out with two grown-ups, one of them old enough to be your father."

"But you two don't act old!" I insisted.

"Thanks a lot!" he exclaimed, widening his eyes.

"No, I didn't mean it like _that_," I backtracked, grinning at Remus. "Just…you know, you two don't_act_ like you're on a different level than I am. You act your age, but you can relate to me and talk to me like I'm a peer, not a kid. And Tonks…" I frowned for a moment, trying to find words to describe her. Finally I shrugged. "I guess it'd be lying to say she acted her age, huh?"

Remus laughed. "Don't let her hear you say that."

"I won't. But it's the truth," I replied. "How old is she anyway?"

"Twenty-one," Remus said, shaking his head. "So young..."

"And you?" I pressed.

"You're not supposed to ask me how old I am. I'm your teacher!" he said indignantly.

I raised my eyebrows, and finally, he sighed. "Guess."

I thought. He was the same age as Harry's parents would have been. If they'd had Harry when they were twenty years old (Tonks had told me that Wizards and Witches usually married young) and Harry was now fifteen years old, he must be close to thirty-five. I decided to go a few years lower just in case. Remus looked to be in his late forties already, the lycanthropy having taken its toll in his appearance, and I definitely didn't want to guess _over_ his age.

"Thirty-three."

"Wrong. I'm thirty-seven. You're flattering, but you guessed low just to get on my good side, didn't you?"

He was _way_ too observant. I grinned. "Guilty as charged."

"And for that, you've got to learn all ten ways to transfigure wood into metal this afternoon," he said, and I groaned.

"Well, let's get on it, then."

* * *

Five o'clock couldn't come fast enough for me. Tonight, I was going to get to see a real Wizarding household. Tonight, I was going to get to meet other people, and get out of the apartment that was fast becoming as restraining as a prison cell. Tonight…

When the resounding crack outside the door announced Tonks's arrival, I jumped up from the table, rocking it and tipping the open bottle of ink onto the papers.

"Dammit, Libby!" Remus cried as I rushed to the door and flung it open. "You're as bad as Tonks!" he shouted irritably after me, waving his wand wildly to clean up the mess before the ink spilled over the edge and stained the carpet.

"Who's as bad as me?" Tonks called cheerily as she burst through the door, holding a pile of packages. Unfortunately, the umbrella stand was a little too close to her path, and she tripped. This time, I wasn't able to catch her belongings, and the packages spilled all over the kitchen floor. She unbalanced me on her way down, and we both sprawled on the tiles.

Slowly, we picked ourselves off the floor to the sound of uncontrollable laughter from the living room. Tonks stood to her full height, shot a glare at Remus that would send a troll running for its life, and began stalking toward him, her hand on her wand holster at her waist. The sight was fearsome—at least, until, not watching her footing, she tripped on one of the very packages she'd dropped, and tumbled to the ground once again.

This time I couldn't help myself. I collapsed on the ground, rolling in laughter. Tonks glowered at both of us as she picked herself up for the second time. "Not a word," she warned in a formidable voice, and disappeared into the bedroom.

Remus and I laughed for a long time. My stomach ached as I smothered post-fit giggles and gathered the packages on the floor, stacking them carefully on the table. "Oh god, please tell me you were joking when you said I was as bad as her," I pleaded when I could speak again.

Remus looked sober. "I take back every word," he said somberly, and I grinned.

After a few minutes, Tonks emerged, giving us a look that clearly said, "Don't say a word, or _else._" Remus and I looked at each other, an unspoken agreement passing between us.

"So," I ventured, "when are we going to your mum's house?"

"I thought we'd leave at six," Tonks said.

"Excellent!" Remus exclaimed, clapping his hands and looking pointedly at me. "_Libby_ here will have plenty of time to learn the last two ways to transfigure wood into metal before you two leave."

"Oh, no," I said, backing away. "No, no, I'm sure that I won't have time, having to get ready and all… Tonks, help me!"

Tonks was laughing, though, and pushed me back towards Remus. "It's just two more, Lib."

"You don't understand," I said frantically, begging her with my eyes. "I've been Transfiguration-overloaded all afternoon! I can't possibly learn one more spell…my head will explode, I'll end up in little pieces all over the apartment and you'll have to scrape me off the walls…"

"Eeew, gross," Tonks exclaimed, looking revolted.

"You just can't make me learn anything else today…I've had enough Transfiguration for a lifetime! All I do all day is study, and a girl's got to have a break sometime…"

She gave me a sympathetic glance, and I knew I'd won. "Remus, don't you think that can wait for tomorrow?" Tonks said, giving him the puppy-dog eyes.

No man could stand up to Tonk's puppy-dog look, Remus least of all. "It's only two more…she needs to learn them before she can move on to Transfiguring animals…" he argued, but he was fast crumbling. Finally he sighed in resignation. "Fine. Fine. Just go."

"Thanks, you saved my life!" I muttered as I rushed past Tonks toward my room, fleeing before he changed his mind.

* * *

It took me twenty minutes to find something suitable to wear—something nice, but not overly dressy—and to fix my hair and face to my satisfaction. My face wasn't hard—my eyebrows could be fixed with another handy charm Tonks had taught me; my complexion was fair and didn't need much makeup. My hair, on the other hand, was an untamable mane, bushy, curly, and completely out of control. It took ten minutes before I finally manage to wrestle my hair into a jeweled clip, secured by so many bobby pins that I hadn't much hope of finding them all when I took my hair down that night. I sighed as I studied my reflection, wishing not for the first time that I had been born a Metamorphagus like Tonks. She _really_ didn't know how lucky she was.

As I slipped out into the hall, I heard loud laughter coming from the living room. When I rounded the corner, I was surprised to find Tonks and Remus sitting side by side on the sofa, their backs to me. As I watched, Remus said something, and Tonks doubled over again in giggles.

I shook my head and sighed. Was everyone except for me oblivious to the fact the Remus and Tonks were completely into each other? Well, _I_ saw it. I saw it when Tonks's face lit up like Christmas every time Remus walked through the door. I saw it in her clumsiness which, I'd noticed, increased exponentially whenever he was around; the way she fretted in front of the mirror, asking me again and again if her hair and clothes looked all right; the way she turned as bashful as a teenager with a crush. I could see it in Remus's slow smile every time I mentioned Tonks's name. I could see it in the adoring way he worshiped her every move, the fond way he spoke of her, the way he watched clock when it neared five, trying to hide his anticipation as the hour approached when she got off work. I had seen it in both of their eyes that night they had danced together in the middle of the living room, an unexplainable joy lighting their faces.

Who were they fooling? Certainly not me. _Maybe_, I thought, _I need to pick up the pace a little. Give them both a shove in the right direction. _

I started to back away, but I accidentally banged the wall. Tonks looked up, then jumped away from Remus as if she'd been hit by lightening. "Libby!" she exclaimed, quickly standing. "You look nice. I'd better go get ready, shouldn't I?"

Not looking at Remus, she fled the room without another word, knocking over the coat rack in her haste to escape.

I raised an eyebrow suggestively at Remus, but didn't speak of the matter. _I need a little time to plan before I put my plan into action. Subtlety and strategy are the keys._

* * *

Tonks and I apparated to her parents' house, despite my hatred of Side-along Apparation. "It'll keep our clothes cleaner," she said apologetically.

It did keep our clothes cleaner, but that didn't console me as I held my stomach, gasping for breath on her lawn.

"You OK?" she asked worriedly.

"Sure," I rasped. "As soon as my stomach dislodges itself from my throat. It feels like my organs were all extracted, put into a jar, and shook up before they were deposited back inside of me."

She made a disgusted face. "Next time, just tell me you're feeling sick. I really didn't need to hear that."

"You're an Auror. You can take it," I snapped. "Now, where's your house?"

In reply, she pointed. We were standing in front of a quaint cottage, surrounded by a perfectly trimmed lawn. I could see the edge of a pond in the back yard, and a nicely-kept garden. A stone path led to the front door.

Tonks sighed. "Best get this over with."

She and I walked up the path, and she knocked twice before pushing open the door. "Mum? Dad?"

"Dora!" A second later, Tonks was engulfed in the arms of a large, rounding man with light hair and jolly smile. He finally released his daughter, turning to me. "And you must be Libby."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Tonks," I said politely, holding out a hand which he shook enthusiastically.

"Posh, none of that mister stuff, girl," he commanded. "Makes me feel older than I already am. Call me Ted."

I instantly liked Tonks's father. He reminded me, in a way, of my own father.

But now was _not_ the time to get sentimental, I told myself sternly, fighting the constricting feeling in my throat.

A middle-aged woman with auburn hair appeared at the door to the adjoining room. "Nymphadora!" she cried, throwing her arms around Tonks. "It's been too long."

"Tonks, Mum. I go by Tonks." But Tonks didn't look angry at all as she pulled out of the embrace. "Mum, you changed your hair!"

Andromeda smiled. "Oh, well, black was getting a bit grim and I was starting to see gray hairs. Do you like the new color?"

"Love it, Mum," Tonks said, beaming at her mother. "Oh, and Mum? This is Libby."

I stepped forward. "It's nice to meet you," I began, but Andromeda was staring at me, open-mouthed. She took a step back, her eyes wide, her face pale—almost as if she'd seen a ghost.

Tonks was staring at her mum as well. "Mum? This is Libby. She's been living with me ever since the…ever since she was orphaned. She just found out she was a witch."

Andromeda was still gaping at me, but suddenly she snapped out of the trance. "Oh, right. I'll go check on the roast," she said faintly, and quickly left the room.

Tonks shrugged helplessly at me.

I groaned. "What did I do?"

"Nothing! I swear, Lib, she never acts this way. Daddy?"

Ted Tonks shrugged helplessly. "Haven't the foggiest. I'd better go see what's the deal, though. Excuse me."

Dinner was awkward, but Tonks's father kept the conversation flowing with humorous stories and witty comments. Andromeda Tonks was more reserved, and every once in a while, I caught her throwing odd glances in my direction, but these I ignored. Tonks answered her father's questions about work and the Ministry at first hesitantly, but her enthusiasm grew as she recounted stories about the most recent Auror investigations. I noticed, though, that she left out anything regarding the Death Eaters or the Order of the Phoenix. When Ted Tonks inquired gently as to the events which led up to me coming to live with Tonks, she turned to me and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. I knew she couldn't speak of it, so I haltingly explained about the Death Eater attack which had claimed my parents' lives.

Andromeda looked shocked, and for a moment seemed to forget the way she'd been treating me before. "My poor child! How horrible!"

"But how is that even possible?" Ted Tonks exclaimed, deep lines furrowing his brow. "You-Know-Who is dead!"

"I told you months ago, Dad, he's back," Tonks said grimly. "Here's your proof."

The poor man looked so shaken that I almost felt sorry for him, before I remembered that I was the victim here. "It's not possible," he insisted. "No…it can't be… Dora, honey, there must be some mistake…the Ministry would have let us know if he were back."

I felt like banging my head against the wall. The stupidity of people! Honestly, was the entire Wizarding population this naive? Did they all think the Ministry was the ultimate truth?

Andromeda surprised me by saying bitterly, "I've been telling you for years, Ted, the Ministry can't be trusted. Even the most arrogant Pureblood knows that."

Tonks reached over and squeezed my hand. "Libby's been through a lot, but she's in good hands now, and Remus and I are doing our best to fight against the Dark Lord."

"Fight?" Andromeda said cynically. "There is nothing anyone can do against the Dark Lord."

"You're wrong," Tonks said fiercely, scraping her chair back and rising to her full height. "You're wrong, Mum. We can stop this, if we have people who are dedicated and committed to the cause…"

"Committed to securing their own deaths is more likely," Andromeda said angrily. "I don't want to lose my only daughter to those…those_monsters!"_

"Someone has to stop those monsters," Tonks said tightly. She glared pointedly at both of her parents before continuing. "I'm only doing my part to stop the murders of innocent people at the hand of that _bastard_ who thinks himself a lord. Do you know what will happen if we stand by and do nothing? He'll destroy everything we've ever loved, Mum. He'll murder the Muggleborns like Dad, he'll make the society completely Pureblood-oriented, and he'll ruin our lives. I can't be like _you_. I can't stand idly by as he murders innocent Muggles like Libby's parents. I can't just watch—it's wrong. By doing nothing, I'd be either condoning his actions, or at least telling people nonverbally that I don't believe he can be defeated."

"He can't be defeated," Andromeda said, her face crumpling. "And you're going to end up dead if you try to resist him, Dora! Please, just give it up! Leave the foolish fighting to someone else!"

Tonks's voice was soft, although her face was resolute. "I can't. I've got to do this, Mum. Maybe one day you will understand, but for right now, just know this: I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least _try._

"And Mum, there _is_ hope." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "There's a prophecy in the Ministry that says that the Dark Lord _can_ be defeated. That's what we're hanging our hopes on."

There was a long silence at the table. "A prophecy?" Andromeda whispered, and I thought that maybe there was a glimmer of something in her eyes.

"A prophecy," Tonks said softly. "We _have_ hope."

"Well, then," Andromeda finally said, patting her eyes with her napkin and folding her hands primly in her lap. "You must do what you feel is right."

Tonks's eyes were wet. "Thank you, Mum," she said, and I could tell that her mother's half-hearted consent was well worth the trip to her home tonight.

The rest of the dinner was completed in silence, broken only by a few attempts on Ted's part to ease the awkwardness. Finally, though, near the end, I got up the courage to ask Tonks if I could see the rest of the house, as I'd never been in a real Wizarding household before.

"Sure," Tonks said, shooting messages of relief and gratitude at me with her eyes. "I can show you now, if you like. Unless you want some help cleaning up, Mum…?"

"No, I'll manage just fine," Andromeda said quickly. "Go."

Ted Tonks accompanied us on the tour of the house, adding his own witty commentary as we ventured through the rooms. He seemed extremely relieved to be out of the tense atmosphere of the dining room, and entertained me by telling me stories of Tonks's childhood.

"Andromeda didn't start dressing Dora in mismatching clothes until one day she went outside to call the girl inside and couldn't distinguish her from the neighbour children," he told me as we climbed the stairs to the second floor, and I laughed at the idea of Andromeda threatening the kids until they finally gave up which one was her daughter.

We reached the landing. "This is my room," Tonks said, gesturing to the door covered in Weird Sisters and Holyhead Harpies posters. Inside, I wasn't surprised to find a room so full of bright colours that I felt as if I'd stepped into a rainbow. Pictures on the dresser showed Tonks as a small girl playing with a large castle full of enchanted figurines and as a nervous first-year clutching a stack of books. Still another picture showed Tonks dressed in her Quidditch uniform, holding what looked like a bat high above her head. The Tonks in the picture waved excitedly at me before turning to embrace a broad-shouldered boy close by with red hair and plenty of freckles.

"Who's that?" I inquired curiously.

"Charlie Weasley," Tonks said fondly, picking up the photograph.

"It's getting late," Ted Tonks said from the door. "Do you work tomorrow, Dora?"

"Yeah, and tonight too," Tonks said vaguely, still looking at the photo.

"Then you'd better get back."

She absently agreed, and turned back to the door, but I noticed that instead of replacing the photograph, she slipped it into her pocket.

"That was…interesting," I commented as Tonks fumbled for the key to unlock her apartment.

"Dammit," she finally muttered and pulled out her wand. "Alohamora."

The door swung open, and we stepped through. "Sorry," Tonks said with a sigh. "I should have warned you about my parents, but I hoped the conversation wouldn't come around to the more serious side of things tonight."

She glanced down at her watch and softly swore again. "I've got to get going…"

"Are you on guard duty tonight?"

She nodded, and opened her mouth to reply, but at that instant, the fireplace rang.

"Who could possibly be calling this late?" Tonks muttered, taking a few steps toward the fireplace, but she froze when Remus stumbled out, gripping a rolled up paper in his hand.

"Remus?" I said quickly. "Is something wrong?"

His face was pale, his eyes wide. Tonks took another step forward. "Tell me what happened."

In reply, the werewolf simply handed over the paper to Tonks, who unrolled it and gasped.

"What? What's going on?" I asked nervously, trying to see the paper, but Tonks held it away from me.

"I think you'd better pack your bags, Libby," Remus said quietly.

"Why? I'm not going back to Edgecombe, am I?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "I don't think any of us will be sleeping here tonight," he finally said.

"But why?"

"This is why," Tonks said suddenly, thrusting the paper at me.

I took a good look at the cover, and instantly knew why they were so upset. Eleven eerie faces leered at me from the page, under the chilling headline, "MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN."

A/N: Another nice long chapter for all of you.

Before you start flaming, I realise that I've bumped up the breakout a few months, and I also realise that I may be way off about Remus's and Tonks's ages. Bear with me. It's for the greater good.

May the force be with you, and don't forget to REVIEW!


	15. Number 12, Grimmauld Place

Grimmauld Place, I discovered, was every bit as foreboding as its name implied. As Tonks and I followed Remus down the dark hallway, I felt a shiver creep up my spine that was unrelated to the cold draft that had found its way in before we'd shut the door. Well, for goodness sake, there were heads mounted on the walls! Heads of funny little creatures with pointy ears and strange, hollow eyes that seemed to be looking at me…

"House elves," Tonks whispered to me as we passed the last of the heads. "The previous owners of the house beheaded them and immortalized them by mounting them on the walls."

"Sounds like whoever lived here last was a nasty piece of work," I observed, suppressing another shiver.

"Just about," she said, a strange catch in her voice. "This way."

As we followed Remus through an open door, I felt a thrill of excitement in the pit of my stomach. Finally, an opportunity to meet more of the Order members Remus and Tonks were always talking about. Of course, I hadn't wanted to leave Tonks's cozy apartment, especially on such short notice, but Remus had insisted that it was essential for our safety, seeing that some of the fugitives were Tonks's relatives, and they might not think too kindly to her being an Order member and an Auror to boot. Her flat was located in a Muggle apartment building, and though it had all the precautionary wards and magical protections, it wouldn't stand a chance against a full-blown Death Eater attack. Anyway, Remus refused to take any chances where Tonks's and my safety were concerned.

So here we were, at Grimmauld Place, not thirty minutes after Remus had first arrived with the news. He'd given us only enough time to pack the essentials, insisting we could come back with more Order members to retrieve the rest of our things later. To my delight, this meant leaving all of my books behind. Perhaps I'd get a few hours free of studying, but knowing Remus, that was unlikely. He was relentless on preparing me for Hogwarts. By his calculations, if I could wrap up the second year in another three weeks, I might be able to join my class at Hogwarts after Christmas, given that I could get through third year in only a month, and then finish up what I'd missed of fourth year over Christmas holidays. I wasn't so sure I could do it, but he seemed confident of my abilities and for him, I'd try my best.

Anyway, back to Grimmauld Place. We walked through a doorway into what appeared to be a dismal kitchen. Two men sat at the large table with their backs turned. A red-haired plump woman was bustling about the kitchen, cleaning dishes and putting away food, but she turned instantly as Remus cleared his throat.

"Remus! Tonks!" she greeted them warmly, rushing over with open arms. "And who is this? Libby, is it?"

I nodded, and I was instantly crushed into a motherly hug. "I heard the news, dear. I'm so sorry."

Unbidden, tears sprang to my eyes, but I fought them back and tried to relax into the embrace. I instantly liked the woman.

"Libby, this is Molly Weasley," Remus said when Mrs. Weasley finally released me. "I believe you've met her son Ron Weasley?"

"Not properly," I said, wondering how the hotheaded Gryffindor I'd seen could be in any way related to the woman in front of me. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Weasley."

She smiled and patted my cheek, then turned to the two men still bent over what looked like an intricate parchment. "Arthur, be polite!"

A thin, balding man, also red-headed, rose quickly from the table, his glasses teetering on the bridge of his nose. His smile was warm as he came over to shake my hand and offer his condolences. The second man was slower in his approach, but once he'd turned, I got a glimpse of a tall, handsome wizard with dark, wavy hair and piercing eyes that seemed to have a certain depth to them. I instantly recognized him as Sirius Black from the wanted pictures in the Daily Prophet, though the fugitive in the pictures looked like a mere shadow of the man standing before me.

"Moony," Black said, grinning. "You _finally_ decided to drop in and visit your old mate."

"I've been busy," Remus protested, but I could see a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth as he embraced his old friend.

"And who's this with you?" Black asked, raising his eyebrows at me. There was something I couldn't quite decipher in his gaze, an almost guarded expression on his face as he looked me over.

"This is Libby," Remus said, motioning me forward. He either hadn't seen the slight hesitation in Black's manner, or else he'd simply chosen to ignore it.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Black," I said politely as I nervously shook his hand.

He threw his head back and laughed, a barking laugh that made me relax a bit. "Mr. Black! Did you hear that, Moony?"

"I certainly did," Remus replied, a hint of humour in his eyes. "Best correct her immediately unless you want the rest of the Order hearing her call you that."

Black sobered immediately. "Too right you are. You," he said to me, "can call me Sirius. None of this Mr. Black stuff or else Moony here will never let me have the end of it. Everyone around here calls me Sirius, save for Moony here who calls me Padfoot when he wants something, and Tonks here, who usually addresses me as 'sodding cousin of mine'…"

Tonks reddened and I choked back a laugh as Sirius continued.

"…and Molly here of course who addresses me as 'insufferable prat' when I eat a whole batch of her cookies or pamper Harry too much…"

Mrs. Weasley seemed to trying very hard to hold back a smile, but I could see how close she was to giving in as she clapped her hands and said sternly, "Now, now, Sirius, no need to go into detail like that! I'm sure Libby here is tired, and Tonks, aren't you supposed to be on patrol duty tonight?"

Tonks yelped. "Oh, Merlin, I forgot! Emmeline is going to be spitting mad…"

"I took care of it, dear," Mrs. Weasley said comfortingly. "Don't you worry. I sent her an owl explaining your situation and told her you'd be running a little late."

"Thank you so much," Tonks exclaimed, impulsively throwing her arms around the woman. "I'll make it up to you."

"No need," Mrs. Weasley said fondly. "You'd better get going, though."

Tonks looked at me. "Will you be OK?"

"I'm fourteen, not four," I said reproachfully. "Besides, Remus is here. I'll be fine."

She gave me one last look before sighing. "OK, I'll see you in the morning. You," she addressed Sirius, "had better not play any of your jokes on her, or so help me I'll hex you into the next millennium."

Sirius held his hands up and pasted an innocent look on his face. "Me? Pull a joke? Honestly, Tonks, where's your cousinly trust?"

"Nonexistent when it comes to you," she said, glaring at him. "Now, be good."

"Always, dear cousin. Always."

After Tonks had _finally_ left, Mrs. Weasley tried to force platefuls of leftovers on Remus and I, and it was only after much arguing that we finally convinced her that I was full from dinner at Tonks's house, and Remus had eaten before he'd arrived. She looked disappointed, and I got the impression that keeping her guests full of home-cooked food was her specialty. But fortunately Mrs. Weasley perked up again when I timidly asked where I could put my things. "I've prepared a room for you upstairs, dear," she said, smilingly lovingly at me. "You can follow me.

I looked at Remus. "Go on," he said. "I'm not going anywhere at the moment."

Mrs. Weasley led me up a dark winding staircase to the third floor, then down another sinister hallway until we reached a shadowed door. "It's not perfect, but it's the best I could do with such short notice," she said apologetically, then led the way into the room. My room was small but neat, with a single bed in the corner and a small chest of drawers under the grimy window. Despite the obvious cleanliness, I still felt pressed in by the grim walls and stark furnishings. But I couldn't say that to Mrs. Weasley.

"It's lovely," I said, smiling uncertainly at her.

She frowned. "You don't have to lie to me, Libby. I know it's not ideal, but tomorrow, we can fix it up more if you like."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother," I began, but she shushed me.

"No bother at all, dear." Then, more to herself, "It's not like there's much else to do in this tomb of a house."

* * *

When I woke in the morning, I was at first unsure of where I was. A faint beam of sunlight was filtering through the dirty windowpane, lighting the wall at the base of which my belongings were spread out. In an instant, the events of the previous night came flooding back and I sat up, yawning and stretching. I was at Grimmauld Place with Tonks and Remus and a whole house-full of new faces to meet. And I was in desperate need of a shower.

I quickly slipped on my robe and gathered up my wand and a pile of clothes, but before I could go in search of a loo, there was a faint knock on the door.

"Come in."

It was Tonks, looking a little worse for the wear, but cheerful nonetheless. Her cheerfulness faded, however, when she got a glimpse of my room. "Lord, Libby, this room is horrible! We've got to do something to brighten it up." She yawned. "After I sleep, that is."

I raised my eyebrows. "Long night?"

"You could say that," she sighed. "Not eventful, of course, but still…"

I resisted the urge to ask her the question that'd been burning on my mind ever since the night before. She'd be more likely to tell me anything than Remus, but I didn't want her to think I was prying into the business of the Order. Still… My curiosity finally overcame caution.

"Does what you're guarding at the Ministry have anything to do with the prophecy you mentioned last night at dinner?" I ventured.

She looked sharply at me. "I wasn't supposed to say that," she hissed. "You can't let anyone know you heard that, or else I'll likely lose my place in the Order. Promise?"

"I promise," I said quickly, anxious to ease her nervousness. "Sorry I asked."

Tonks seemed to relax a little. "It's just that this is top secret Order business," she said, lowering her voice. "I wasn't supposed to tell my parents, but it seemed like the right thing to say…"

"My lips are sealed," I assured her. "Could you tell me where the shower is?"

"Down the hall, two doors on the right," she said, suppressing a giant yawn. "Sorry, but I think I'm going to go to bed now, if that's OK with you…"

"Please, go ahead," I said. "Do you have to go to work?"

"Kingsley gave me the day off."

It wasn't until I was halfway down the hall that I heard the last half of her sentence. "He had to; I had my wand stuck in his face."

* * *

As I entered the kitchen thirty minutes later, Mrs. Weasley looked up from the stove. "Oh, there you are, dear!" she exclaimed, bustling over to me and giving me a hug. "Now, I've made bacon and eggs and there's toast and preserves on the table."

I thanked her sincerely as I lowered myself into a chair and pulled the toast basket toward me. All throughout my slow-paced meal, she kept up a steady stream of chatter and occasionally paused to ask me questions about my life, though thankfully she avoided the events surrounding my discovery that I was a witch.

As she talked, I learned lots of interesting things, like the fact that the Weasleys didn't have just one son, they had six, _and_ a daughter. The four youngest were at Hogwarts; the two oldest in the Order. She was strangely mute about the middle son, though I did catch his name—Percy. By the end of the meal, I was sure I knew more about the Weasley children than any of their peers at Hogwarts. For example, I knew that Bill, the oldest, was working at Gringotts and currently corresponding with a French girl who Mrs. Weasley did not approve of; Charlie was in Romania, working on a dragon reservation. Something clicked in my mind, and I realised that this was the same Charlie Tonks had had spoken of; I could definitely see the resemblance between Mrs. Weasley and the photograph, and I wondered exactly what had happened between Tonks and Charlie.

I also learned that Fred and George, who were twins, were the trouble-makers of the family. Most of Mrs. Weasley's stories involved them pranking their siblings, but I could sense an underlying note of pride as she fretted about how they spent all their time inventing worthless contraptions and jokes. Ron, I learned, was a Quidditch fanatic and best friends with "poor Harry." I assumed she was referring to Harry Potter, but was surprised to hear the hero of the Wizarding World called "poor." She talked of him like he was another son, and I could tell the affection went deeper than just regular human concern. Maybe there was more to the famous Boy-Who-Lived than I first suspected.

Ginny was the youngest, the only girl in the family, and obviously the pride and joy of her mother. At first I felt sorry for the girl—imagine growing up with six brothers! But Mrs. Weasley assured me that Ginny was well able to take care of herself. After the stories, I got the impression that the youngest Weasley was quite manipulative. Mrs. Weasley told me how Fred and George used to hang Ginny's dolls out of their tree-house. She didn't really care for dolls anyway, so she never minded, but as soon as her mother would come around, Ginny would pitch a fit, earning her brothers a stern reprimand. Mrs. Weasley confessed that it'd taken her years to catch on to her daughter's sinister ways.

I, for one, couldn't wait to meet them all, and said so to Mrs. Weasley. "Oh, Bill will be around," she assured me. "He comes for Order meetings, but you'll have to wait a few more months before the others get back from Hogwarts."

I sighed. Christmas seemed like an eternity away.

As I finished my last bite of eggs, Remus entered the room. "Morning, Libby, Molly," he said cheerfully as he set a stack of books on the table.

My heart sank. I recognized those books.

"Well? Ready to begin?" he asked me and I groaned.

"When did you go back to the flat?"

"Just now," Remus told me. "I took a few people with me, but there was nothing to worry about. The rest of your things is in the hallway, but you can get them later after lessons. Ready to start studying?"

I looked over at Mrs. Weasley. "Do I have to?"

She laughed. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Then why do I hate it so much?" I grumbled as I grabbed a few books off the top of the stack and followed him out of the room.

_Please review, tell me what you think. I'm all of a sudden inspired to write a lot on this story, and I nearly have the next chapter finished. The whole story is planned out and outlined--ships, events, things to happen at Hogwarts, the battle at the Ministry of Magic, etc. Maybe in the next chapter, the Weasleys and Harry will appear very suddenly in the middle of the night because of certain bad news... I really need to retrieve my copy of OOTP and start reading it to make sure of details. I'm trying to go as canon as I can, but of course it's hard with an OC like this. Any thoughts as to who Libby is related to? Anyone beginning to pick up on the clues yet? Review and tell me what you think!_


	16. Parties, Plans, and Disasters

Life at Grimmauld Place was definitely more interesting than it'd been back in London, but I sorely missed Tonks's cozy apartment with the comfortable couches and the roaring fireplace. Grimmauld Place was nothing but dark corners and severe furnishings and strange, evil-looking objects that Mrs. Weasley warned me never to touch. But the distasteful living conditions were made bearable by two things in particular: the company, and Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

I reveled in all the introductions, dinners, conversations, and visitors. It took me three weeks before I was finally sure I'd met every Order member out there. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and the Weasleys were just the beginning. I soon had been introduced to Emmeline Vance, Hestia Jones, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Mundungus Fletcher (Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to like him much), Kingsley Shacklebolt, Bill Weasley, and Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. McGonagall dropped by for a few minutes one morning, but barely had time to flash me a stiff smile before insisting that she needed to get back to the school. "That Umbridge woman," I faintly heard her mumble before she left. Even Severus Snape made a brief appearance for a meeting one night, but he, of course, ignored me pointedly. Not that I minded; I wasn't afraid of him, and Tonks had assured me that as long as I wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor, I would never have anything to be worried about.

Albus Dumbledore looked to me like a cross between a doting grandfather and Gandalf the White. His beard nearly reached his knees and his brightly coloured, gold-embroidered robes made him look very imposing in a comical sort of way. The Headmaster of Hogwarts had only come to Grimmauld Place once, but in the visit he took time to say hello to me, offer his condolences, and tell me how glad he was that I would soon be attending his school. Oh, and he also offered me a lemon drop; the gesture secured my belief that he was well past the typical definition of eccentric.

My favorite times were the meals. We never knew who would drop in, only that Sirius and I were constants. Of course Remus and Tonks were often there, as they were living at Grimmauld Place, and the Weasleys were staying at Grimmauld Place as well; with all of their children gone, it was easiest if they aided the Order from Headquarters. Tonks told me that the Weasleys were pretty high on Voldemort's—my bad, You-Know-Who's—hit list, being such good friends of Harry's. I was glad they were around. Mrs. Weasley's cooking was to die for. Don't get me wrong, I hadn't _disliked_ Tonks or Remus's cooking, but I had gotten awfully tired of pancakes, pasta, and sandwiches. Molly's Weasley's food was simply amazing and irresistible, to the point that I was certain that I was gaining weight.

The meals weren't just enjoyable because of the food, however. At every meal, I could expect one of the adults to go off on a story-telling marathon, recounting all the memorable or funny moments of their years at Hogwarts. I soon found that Remus had left quite a lot out of his recounts of Marauder tales. Sirius's versions were much more colourful and funny. Many times I laughed until tears came at their hilarious anecdotes while Mrs. Weasley clicked her tongue in disapproval.

On my very first full day at Grimmauld Place, Mrs. Weasley insisted on helping me make my room up a little better. "Oh, posh, it's got to be done anyway," she said at my protests that all her work was really unnecessary. "We'll be housing loads more people over Christmas break. You're just giving me an excuse to start readying the rooms a little early. I was thinking you could share this room with Ginny over Christmas holidays, but only if you're not opposed to the idea…"

I assured her that it'd be fine, that I'd love to room with Ginny. Inwardly, I fantasized about finally being around kids my own age. I'd heard so much about Harry, Ron, and Ginny and I was anxious to meet them properly. Hermione, Mrs. Weasley had informed me, would not be coming to Grimmauld Place, but would instead be spending Christmas with her Muggle parents. Naturally, I was a little shy about meeting the famous Boy-Who-Lived and his fiery sidekick, so most of my hopes rested on the youngest Weasley child.

Mrs. Weasley magically repainted the shabby room a pretty shade of lavender and then Flooed to her home (a place they called "The Burrow") to bring back an assortment of sheets and handmade quilts embroidered with flowery patterns appropriate to a girl's room. By the time we were finished, I would have never recognized it as the same room as the night before. We'd fixed up the furniture, painted it white, thrown a couple of soft rugs on the hardwood floor, and arranged the twin beds tastefully with the chest of drawers in between. Mrs. Weasley even offered to pick me up some Wizarding posters next time she journeyed into Diagon Alley, but I politely refused with the excuse that I hadn't been exposed to the Wizarding World long enough to even know who my favourite artists or Quidditch teams would be, anyhow.

Within the first several days after my arrival, I was surprised one lunchtime to have Mr. Weasley set his plate down beside me. He smiled encouragingly. "I'm Arthur," he said. "Is it true that you lived your whole life with Muggles?"

And so began the first of many conversations with Molly Weasley's Muggle-crazed husband. Mr. Weasley was the oddest, yet kindest, most sincere man I'd ever met. He loved to grill me with questions regarding Muggle contraptions from airplanes to toasters. He listened, fascinated, as I described life without magic and never tired of my stories. I wasn't at all surprised to learn from Tonks that he worked at the Ministry of Magic in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.

My schooling progressed at a steady rate. Now that we were all living at Grimmauld Place, Tonks and Remus didn't have to feel so much responsibility over me. There were always people present at the house. Sirius never left, something I knew was a big controversy, though who exactly had confined him in his own home, I wasn't sure. But at the very least, my presence gave him something to do. Remus began to be gone more and more; every so often I would hear the word "werewolves" mentioned in bits and pieces of conversation, though the Order members were usually careful not to discuss business around me. I naturally assumed Remus's work had something to do with his fellow werewolves. Perhaps he was trying to tame them; maybe they were working on the opposite side; I didn't know.

Anyhow, as Remus's absences became more frequent, Sirius began to take over my education, as everyone else was currently employed and Mrs. Weasley was far too busy with housekeeping and cooking to be of any help. I was surprised at how intelligent Sirius was; Remus's stories of the Marauders had left me with the picture of Sirius as a confident, daring teenager who could care less about learning and books. Sirius was definitely not as intelligent as Remus, but he was a capable teacher, and brilliant at Charms and Transfiguration, my two worst subjects. How he was able to remember all of his stuff after eleven years in Azkaban, I didn't know.

On the very first day he taught me, I could hold my curiosity back no longer and my request burst forth—I wanted to see firsthand what an Animagus transformation looked like, so I asked.

Sirius laughed. "It's really not that interesting," he said. "I just—kind of morph into a big black dog."

"Can I see? Please?"

Finally, he agreed, and then screwed up his face. A second later, he was gone; in his place stood a large, shaggy, panting dog who looked dearly in need of a bath. I squealed—yes, I know, _very_ mature of me—in delight and the dog grinned at me before shaking violently and lifting a leg to scratch himself.

I laughed, and Sirius looked reproachfully at me with large doleful eyes before transforming back. "Hey," he protested. "I can't do that in human form—they'd throw me out of the house for bad manners."

"Even if they wanted to throw you out, they couldn't," I pointed out, then wished I hadn't mentioned his confinement. "Anyway, that's really cool," I said hastily. "Can you teach me?"

"Remus would murder me and feed my remains to Buckbeak," Sirius said, widening his eyes comically.

I frowned. "Buckbeak?"

"The hippogriff in the attic? Please don't tell me that Molly failed to mention that bit."

"What's a hippogriff?"

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, then seemed to change his mind. "Tell you what, I'll take you to see him after we finish your lessons this morning."

The hours passed quickly. Sirius was an entertaining teacher—with each new spell came the Marauder stories of the memorable Transfiguration classes and mishaps with wands. By the end of the morning, even though I hadn't mastered the fine art of turning marbles into minnows, I knew half a dozen of the best transfiguration disaster stories—most of them instigated by either James Potter or Sirius himself.

After lunch, Sirius dragged me up to the third floor to officially meet Buckbeak. At first I was terrified of the huge bird-horse, but after Sirius assured me the hippogriff was perfectly safe and showed me how to approach him, I took a liking to Buckbeak. I even plucked up enough courage to feed him a dead water rat.

Slowly, the weeks passed, and I began to feel just at home at Grimmauld Place as I had at Tonks's apartment, although at the new location, there were quite a few more things I wasn't allowed to touch. I suppose my feelings of "fitting in" came with my increasing friendships with the occupants of Grimmauld Place, especially Sirius Black himself. Though our first meeting had been a little tense, I soon found myself enjoying his company more and more. While Tonks was the sister I never had and Remus a sort of father figure, Sirius was the wacky cousin you could always count on to be good for a laugh. He loved pranking his unsuspecting victims, singing "He's a Jolly Good Wizard" at the top of his lungs in the shower, driving Mrs. Weasley nutters by stealing every bit of food in sight to feed to Buckbeak (so he claimed; I suspected he ate most of it himself), and transforming into "Padfoot" and barking wildly every time the doorbell rang. He was the energy behind the Order, albeit stifled and resentful from long months of being locked up.

We became fast friends. I loved talking with him, gleaning marvelous tidbits of information about Hogwarts (seven secret passageways!), Order business (he never said anything outright, but I was becoming quite talented in reading between the lines), and the actual members of the Order (did you know that Emmeline Vance's darkest secret is the fact that she dated Cornelius Fudge during their Hogwarts days? Poor thing…). Still, it was several weeks before I plucked up the courage to ask him a question I'd been wondering about ever since I'd overheard a name in whispered conversations.

"Who is Sturgis Podmore?" I said suddenly in the middle of lessons one day. I was slouched in the sitting room couch, watching Sirius demonstrate the proper wand movements for transfiguring rodents. "And why did he have to go to Azkaban?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows, dropping his wand to his side. "You don't miss a thing, do you?"

"It's not hard to learn stuff around here," I said calmly. "I just keep my ears open. Besides, I could have learned it from those Daily Prophets stacked on the second floor."

"True," Sirius said. He still hadn't answered my question.

"Is Podmore an Order member?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you anything," Sirius said, watching me.

"That's as good as a yes," I said, smirking, and he threw up his hands in mock despair.

"Good god, you're incredible," he groaned. "We'll have to initiate you into the Order immediately and make you take an Unbreakable Vow to keep you from sharing all of our deepest secrets with the public."

"Overdramatic git," I muttered under my breath, unable to keep the grin from my face. Though I wondered what he'd do if he knew that I'd learned of the prophecy.

When I asked more questions, Sirius refused to talk. I left an hour later, frustrated but determined that if they wouldn't give me information, I'd just have to find it out for myself.

And so my quest for answers began. Unfortunately, the Order members were good at concealing their secrets. And at Grimmauld Place, Murphy's Law applied: everything I wanted to hear was said too quietly for me to decipher it, and of course the things I didn't want to hear were shouted at an ear splitting volume.

"MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER, GET YOUR FILTHY ILLEGAL PLANTS OUT OF MY KITCHEN OR SO HELP ME I'LL CURSE YOU INTO THE NEXT MILLENIUM…"

Yes; unfortunately, this is _exactly _what I'd wake up to some days. Usually I'd cover my head with the pillow and try to catch a few more winks of sleep before someone pounded on my door, but today I decided that was useless. Groaning, I pulled myself up out of bed and grabbed a change of clothes for the shower. Unfortunately for me, as I rounded the corner, I came face to face with the last person I wanted to run into that morning.

The only occupant of Grimmauld Place I disliked was a house elf named Kreacher. The grey-skinned house elf had huge bloodshot eyes, ratty ears, and filthy clothes, but his appearance didn't phase me—what I took personal offence at was the fact that he delighted in calling me "Mudblood" at every opportunity he could. I detested the title—not only because of the horrible connotations, but also because I wasn't even yet sure whether I was Muggle-born or not. Every time he spouted off that horrible name, I remembered that I still wasn't sure of my true identity—a very unnerving concept.

Anyway, Kreacher saw me and immediately started muttering obscenities under his breath. "Filthy little mudblood dares to desecrate the halls of my mistress's home…she is not welcome here…she should go back to the Muggle scum she lived with before…"

Maybe my nerves had already been frayed to the edge this morning, awaking to Mrs. Weasley shouting at the top of her lungs and all. Perhaps it was just because I'd had enough. Either way, I lost my temper. "Shut up! SHUT UP! I've had enough of you with your hateful name calling and prejudice! Is it too much to ask for you to just leave me alone?"

Kreacher leered, a particularly frightening sight as he didn't have many teeth left. "She dares to lecture me…the Mudblood thinks I'll regard her? She must be out of her mind…"

Suddenly, I heard angry footsteps approaching. "Enough, Kreacher!" Sirius bellowed, and both of us jumped. "I've had enough of you. You _will_ _not_ call Libby names, you _will_ treat her respectfully, and you will _never_ use the word 'Mudblood' again. Go busy yourself elsewhere and stop treating my guests like trash!"

Muttering under his breath, Kreacher scurried away. "Thanks," I said gratefully. "He was starting to get to me."

"He got to me _years_ ago," Sirius muttered. "Anyway, hopefully he won't bother you anymore. If you're lucky, you'll never have to speak to him again."

I would not be so lucky.

After my shower, I set into my lessons for the day, and made good progress. It was nearing December, and I had completed third level Herbology, Defense, and Potions. I was almost there in Charms, but only halfway through third year Transfiguration. In an attempt to level out my knowledge, Remus and Sirius had decided to abandon the first three subjects until I could get caught up in Charms and Transfiguration. The end result was that I spent most of my days studying my two least-liked classes.

When I trudged up to my room after lessons that day, I felt as if my head would explode from all the information packed inside. Impulsively, I flopped down on my bed, and almost instantly, I was asleep.

The room was dark when I awoke from my nap; outside, the street was hidden in shadows. At first I was confused—had I slept through the night? Then a look at the bedside clock assured me that no, I hadn't slept through the night, but I had missed dinner.

I decided to head downstairs to see if there were any leftovers in the kitchen; I also wanted to see what everyone was doing.

As I walked down the second floor hallway on the way to the stairway when I heard arguing voices from the upstairs drawing room. Slowing my pace, I silently slipped closer, curiosity getting the better of me. The door nearly shut, but a thin beam of light shone out from the opening. I cautiously pressed my eye against the crack and saw Sirius and Remus standing in the middle of the room. "…It can't be, Sirius. You know that," Remus was saying.

Sirius began to pace. "I _know_, Moony, I know. It's not possible. But the resemblance is unnerving. Surely it must mean something."

"It's a resemblance, nothing more," Remus insisted. "You read into things too much, Padfoot."

"But don't you think it's suspicious that the Ministry has been withholding the bloodline tests for weeks now?"

With a jolt, I realised that they were talking about me. The Ministry was withholding the results? Why hadn't Tonks told me anything about it? And what resemblance were they talking about?

"We have no proof…" Remus began.

"The bloodline tests take at the longest three months to complete," said Sirius, scowling. "It's been well past that—we both know it. They're hiding something."

"Why would they withhold Libby's blood tests?"

Sirius's face was a dark mask. "You answer that for yourself, Remus. I'm only saying that she bears a resemblance to…" His voice trailed off, and although I strained my ear, I couldn't catch a name.

Remus was shaking his head. "I don't think so…I can't see it at all."

"Severus agrees with me," Sirius insisted.

"In that case, this has got to be the only thing you two have ever agreed upon in your life," Remus said dryly. "Listen to yourself, Padfoot—you're making no sense at all. How could she be related to _them_? It's simply not possible."

I took a step back, and suddenly the board I was standing on creaked. I froze; Sirius and Remus started. "Someone's out there," Remus said, peering at the door and starting toward it, Sirius following behind.

Quickly I tiptoed backwards and slipped into a shadow. A second later, the door was flung open and light flooded into the hallway. There was a long, tense second as Sirius and Remus scanned the surroundings. I held my breath.

"It must have been Kreacher," Sirius finally decided. "Either way, we need to be more cautious, Moony."

Remus muttered his agreement, and the two reentered the room and bolted the door behind them. I crept forward just in time to hear Sirius mutter, "Silencio." Then all noise from the other side of the door was extinguished.

I stood there in the hallway for quite some time, my heart racing. The bloodline tests were being withheld? And Sirius and Remus were obviously keeping something from me. Who did Sirius think I looked like? Why was the Ministry being so obstinate? Was there more to the mystery of my lineage than I had first thought?

Eventually, I continued downstairs. Tonks and Mrs. Weasley were in the parlor, the former reading _Witch Weekly_ and the latter knitting something with loud colours of yarn.

"Hey, Libby," Tonks said, looking up when I entered. "Sorry I didn't wake you for dinner—you looked so peaceful I didn't have the heart to wake you."

I shrugged. "It's OK. Can I get something from the kitchen, Mr. Weasley?"

"Of course, dear," she replied. "There's cold turkey in the icebox and bread in the cupboard. The jam is…well, you know where the food is. Help yourself."

After retrieving a plate, I joined them in the sitting room. "Where's Mr. Weasley?" I asked.

They exchanged glances and I sighed. "Let me guess. Guard duty."

"Yes, of course, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "Did you find the food alright?"

I nodded, and commenced with eating after settling myself on the vacant sofa. The clock ticked quietly on the mantle, and in the fireplace, the flames crackled and danced. The quiet was only broken by the sound of pages turning and the click of knitting needles.

"Tonks," I said hesitantly between bites. "Has the Ministry sent any word about the bloodline tests?"

Her head jerked up. "No. Why?" she said calmly, but she didn't fool me.

"No reason," I said vaguely. "Just curious."

They exchanged significant glances, and Mrs. Weasley said, "The children are coming from Hogwarts on the eighteenth of December. That's only a couple of weeks away. Isn't that exciting?"

Rather than press the issue, I agreed with her and immediately joined in the conversation. Much as I'd love to press Tonks for details, I knew that the best way to get information was to bide my time, keep my ears open, and then reveal what I knew at a very strategically planned moment and demand answers. So stifling my curiosity, I finished my supper and then went to my room to study a little before sleeping.

The remaining weeks before Christmas holidays seemed as if they'd never pass. I studied diligently, practiced my Transfiguration and Charms, and even found time to help Mrs. Weasley decorate the house for Christmas. We trimmed the tree and the banister, hung magical lights in the window, and baked until the countertops were crammed with cakes, cookies, puddings, breads, and pies. Keeping busy helped a little, but still the days passed slowly.

Two days before Christmas holidays began, I finally finished the last of the third year curriculum. In celebration, Mrs. Weasley threw a small party that evening, and quite a few Order members were there.

"Congratulations, Libby!" Mr. Weasley said jovially, slapping my back. "I'm proud of you."

I grinned. "Thanks," I said. He was about the tenth person to praise me that evening, though I guessed that the party was not entirely about me. The party was more or less an excuse for the somber Order members to have a little fun.

Mrs. Weasley had cooked up a feast of foods, including a huge multi-layered cake decorated with the word "Congratulations" written in flashing letters. The radio was blaring a Wizarding station with upbeat music, and the adults were passing around jugs of meade and bottles of wine. I saw Mundungus Fletcher pull a small vial of Firewhisky out of his coat pocket and take a swig; I wisely decided to withhold that bit of information from Mrs. Weasley.

In the living room, Bill Weasley was trying to convince Emmeline Vance to dance with him. She staunchly refused, but Hestia Jones volunteered and the two of them began a lively dance in the middle of the floor. "Oh, good, I love dancing," Sirius cried, and with a flick of his wand he cleared the couches away before hauling Tonks to her feet.

"You prat!" she shrieked, laughing as he pulled her into a foxtrot.

"May I have a dance with the most beautiful lady in the house?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked me with a twinkle in his eye.

Grinning, I took his hand we joined the chaos. Mr. Weasley dragged his protesting wife into the ruckus and I saw Elphias Doge finally convince Emmeline Vance to join him on the floor.

"Libby, you're dancing!" Sirius cried, spotting me, and he immediately abandoned Tonks to cut in.

"Sorry," I called as Sirius spun me away from Shacklebolt. He shrugged, and offered his hand to Tonks, who looked positively outraged to be ditched mid-dance.

"You'll pay for this, cousin," I heard her warn before we danced through several couples. The song ended and the beat picked up.

"Have you ever done any swing dancing?" Sirius asked, and I nodded. "OK, ready? One, two, three, four…"

Swing dancing was one of the dances I _could _do. Our school had hosted a 50's week and we'd all learned to swing dance for the final production we'd put on for our parents. I thoroughly enjoyed the dance (one, it was simple; two, it was fun) though where Sirius had learned it, I hadn't the foggiest.

"London," he said over the noise, as if reading my thoughts. "I lived in London after graduating from Hogwarts and Lily and James made me come dancing with them several evenings each month."

He spun me again, and I took a quick look around the room. Bill and Kingsley had somehow exchanged partners. Kingsley and Hestia seemed to do well together; Tonks, however, kept stepping on Bill's feet, for which she was continuously apologizing. The song changed again, and Mr. Weasley pulled Mrs. Weasley close to him to dance slow. Her face was beet red, but she looked radiant.

"Know how to ballroom dance?" Sirius asked me.

"No," I said, and he began to teach me. As I followed his instructions, I watched Tonks, dancing with Bill. She looked happy enough, though a bit wistful. Then, in the background, I saw Remus slowly edging his way toward her.

Finally he reached the couple. "May I cut in?" he asked, and Tonks positively beamed. Bill stepped aside graciously, and Remus took Tonks in his arms.

Sirius followed my gaze, and whistled under his breath. "I'd say there's a bit of chemistry going on between those two," he commented, looking amazed.

"A lot more than just a bit," I muttered, and his eyebrows shot up.

"Well, Miss Libby, it seems you're full of surprises," he said. "You and I will have to have a talk regarding these…er, developments later."

Before I could reply, Bill Weasley tapped Sirius's shoulder. "May I have this dance?" he asked, and Sirius sighed.

"If you must," he said resignedly. Then he winked at me. "I'll find you later."

"Where's that Fleur girl you're dating?" I asked as Bill took hold of my hands.

"I'm not dating her!" he protested, grinning at me. "Why does everyone automatically assume…"

"Perhaps because you're never here for dinner because you're always eating with her," I replied. "Or maybe because every time you _are _here, your entire conversation centers around what you and _Fleur_ did today. Or perhaps because you're star-struck crazy about her, and we can tell!"

"Is it really that obvious?" Bill exclaimed, his face turning beet red.

I rolled my eyes. "Just ask her out, for Merlin's sake."

He leaned close. "I'll tell you a secret: I already did."

"And?"

"She said yes."

"Marvelous!" I cried, a little too loudly.

Bill shushed me. "Don't say that too loud."

"Why not?" I said, frowning. "Why've you been keeping it under wraps?"

"I'll give you three tries," he said.

I thought for only a moment before guessing, "Your mum."

"Right," he said. "She'll murder me. I've got to do something really great for her before telling her the news. Maybe that'll soften her up a bit before I drop the bomb."

I looked over at Tonks and Remus again; they seemed to be in their own little world—twirling and dipping in perfect time. I wished for perhaps the millionth time that one or the other would simply admit their feelings. Or just kiss, for goodness sake. Too bad they were both _so_ stubborn.

The dancing broke up shortly after Sirius announced very loudly that he was starving and that if someone didn't cut the cake soon, he'd transform and eat it all himself. This elicited a "Don't you dare!" from Mrs. Weasley, who immediately dashed to the kitchen to check on the food.

After we'd all eaten to our hearts' content, the Order members one by one began excusing themselves and leaving either by Floo or Apparation. Amid the bustle and commotion, an owl came soaring into the room for Mrs. Weasley who opened it and then crumpled up the note. "Diggle is wondering if someone is coming to relieve him," she called over the noise.

"Diggle?" asked Tonks, frowning. "Oh, right...guard duty. Who was supposed to take the next shift?"

"I believe it was Dung," said Sirius. "But he's passed out on the couch. I doubt he'll be in any condition to work tonight."

"Passed out?" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. "Oh, I'm going to _murder_ him…"

"Well, I can't take the shift," said Tonks. "I've got to work tomorrow."

"You both know I'd do it in a heartbeat if I were allowed," Sirius interjected bitterly.

"And heaven knows I can't fill in for him," Mrs. Weasley said, pacing and wringing her hands. "Not with this place looking as it does and a dozen more things to do before the children arrive… Arthur? Arthur!"

A second later, Mr. Weasley stuck his head into the kitchen. "Yes, dear?"

"Arthur, can you possibly take the watch tonight? No one else can do it."

Mr. Weasley agreed and left shortly after with his coat and hat. Mrs. Weasley kissed him goodbye at the door and admonished him to "be home before breakfast." Then she put the rest of us to work doing the dishes and straightening the rooms.

I was exhausted when I fell into bed, but it was a good kind of tired. The party had been the most fun I'd had in weeks, and I knew that I hadn't been the only one who felt that way.

* * *

_I'll sleep well tonight,_ I thought before I let the darkness overtake me.

Pounding footsteps were echoing from the hallway, and several people were shouting all at once. I groaned and rolled over in my bed, pulling my blankets more tightly around my shoulders. And then I realised in an instant that the voices and footsteps weren't from some nightmare—they were real.

I sat upright and blindly reached for my wand on the dresser. The clock read 11:30; I had only been asleep for a little more than an hour. What on earth was going on?

"Lumos," I whispered, and grabbed my robe, wrapping it around my shoulders. The hall was empty when I poked my head out, but I could hear voices from the kitchen. Loud, hysterical voices.

I bolted down the flight of stairs and skidded to a halt the doorway. Mrs. Weasley was standing in the middle of the floor, shaking violently as her hands twisted a handkerchief into a knot. Sirius had his head in the fireplace and seemed to be shouting directions at someone on the other end. Tonks was wearing a robe over pajama pants like me and was trying unsuccessfully to calm the hysterical Mrs. Weasley. Remus seemed to be talking some to Sirius and some to Dedalus Diggle who looked just as confused as I felt.

"He'll be fine, I'm sure," Tonks was saying.

"But Dumbledore said that he was in critical condition," Mrs. Weasley cried. "Or else they wouldn't have taken him to St. Mungo's…"

"Yes, yes," Sirius was shouting into the fireplace. "Make sure you have the story right! Yes, immediately. Straight to the hospital. I'll be sending his wife over with Remus in a moment."

"Sirius, what about the Weasley children?" Remus said loudly over the other commotion.

Sirius finally pulled his head out of the fireplace. "That's what I'm here for," he snapped. "To babysit while Arthur is practically dying…"

"But how on earth did they know that he'd been attacked?" Diggle pressed.

"I'm not sure," Sirius said hesitantly. "But I think it had something to do with a vision Harry had."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Remus, but he quickly composed himself. "Can Molly and I leave yet?"

"Not yet," Sirius said, taking charge. "Two more minutes should do it. We can't have you arriving at St. Mungo's before he does. Tonks?"

Tonks's head snapped up.

"Kingsley wants you at the office immediately to investigate the scene with the other Aurors."

She nodded, then pulled out her wand to transfigure her clothes into Auror robes. Remus was dressed, though his hair was askew and his eyes were a bit bloodshot. He said something quietly to Sirius, and the other man started to reply when he finally noticed me standing frozen in the doorway.

"Libby," he said, and immediately every eye in the room was on me.

"What happened?" I blurted out, gripping my wand tightly in my hands. "Is Mr. Weasley alright?"

Remus looked grave. "We don't know. He's being taken to the Wizarding hospital as we speak."

"But what happened?" I pressed, taking a few steps closer to the table.

"He was attacked," Sirius said reluctantly.

Mrs. Weasley burst into a fresh shower of tears, and Tonks pulled her into a tight embace.

Remus looked me straight in the eye. "Arthur was attacked on his guard shift…by a giant snake."

_Be kind and review. __Longest chapter yet! __5,666 words.__Did this chapter seem too rushed? I probably should have slowed it down a bit, but I wanted the story to pick up the pace a little as I'm really looking forward to writing the Libby-at-Hogwarts stuff. __And Libby-meets-trio-and-Ginny.__ But I loved this chapter since I absolutely love the Order__ members__—the quirks and merits of each character__ are amazing and really awesome to write. Yes, anyway…_

_To be continued. _


	17. A Very Long Night

At last, everyone had gone, save for Sirius and me. The message had finally arrived that Mr. Weasley was at the hospital, so Mrs. Weasley had departed, accompanied by Remus. Tonks had left shortly after for the Auror department, and Diggle to help sort out things at the Department of Mysteries.

I stood next to the door, unable to move, unable to think. Sirius was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, pausing at times to run his fingers through his hair and mutter things under his breath.

"Are the Weasleys coming here?" I finally asked timidly.

Sirius stopped his pacing and looked at me uncomprehendingly. I repeated my question.

"Yes," he said absently, turning back to the fireplace. "And Harry too, I think."

"By Floo?"

"Portkey."

I wasn't exactly sure what a Portkey was, though I'd heard Tonks and Remus speak of them before. My stomach knotted up and I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. _He'll be OK, he'll be OK…_ I chanted in my head.

He simply _had_ to be alright.

"Maybe I should leave," I said. The Weasleys would be concerned about their dad. I'd be out of place.

"No," said Sirius quickly, and I looked up at him sharply. "No, don't go. I…You should stay."

"But the Weasleys…"

"_I'd_ feel better if you stayed," he said honestly, and I understood.

"Will he be OK?" I whispered.

Sirius shrugged. "It's probably too early to tell."

There was a movement at the door, and I jumped, but it was only Kreacher.

"Kreacher wonders what is going on," the house elf was muttering, sending venomous glares at both of us. "Kreacher hears that the Weasley man has been attacked, and Kreacher is glad."

"Kreacher," Sirius warned angrily, jumping to his feet, but at that instant, there was a flash and a bang, and five people appeared in the kitchen, sprawling on the floor at the impact of their arrival.

"Back again, the blood traitor brats, Kreacher hopes their father the Muggle-lover will die," the house-elf began.

"Get OUT!" roared Sirius, and mercifully, Kreacher obeyed.

I looked at the bedraggled pajama-clad group of teens. Sirius had turned back to them and was helping the girl off the floor. Bright red hair, wide brown eyes—this must be Ginny. Ron and Harry, I recognized immediately. The twins—Fred and George, I remembered—immediately jumped to their feet.

"Where is she?"

"Where's Mum?"

"What happened?"

"Can we see him?"

I retreated farther into my corner as Sirius raised his hands. "Quiet!" he bellowed, and the twins stopped talking. Ron was staring at Sirius, his face pale and scared; Harry was watching the Weasleys with tortured eyes. Ginny was trembling.

"Your father has been taken to St. Mungo's, as well as your mum," Sirius told them. "I don't know how he is. No, you can't go see him—the Healers need room to work."

"But what happened?" the twin closest to me demanded.

"Ask Harry," the other one said, turning narrowed eyes on the skinny black-haired teen.

Slowly, haltingly, Harry told the story of his dream—how he'd seen the snake attacking Mr. Weasley—and the others stared at him disbelievingly.

"But how bad is it?" one of the twins said as soon as he'd finished his tale.

The boy hesitated. "Bad."

Instantly all four Weasleys jumped on Sirius. "You're out of your mind if you think you're going to keep us from seeing him!" shouted George. Was it George? His dressing gown was open, and I could see the T-shirt he was wearing over striped pajama pants—the shirt had a big "G" on the front.

"Yeah, my dad may be dying!" said Ron angrily.

"I want to be with Mum," began Ginny, but she was cut off by her three brothers.

Harry stumbled back blindly, looking stricken. I quickly stepped out of his way as he groped for the wall to lean against. Then, he noticed me. "Who are you?"

I swallowed. "I'm Libby."

"Oh." He stared uncomprehendingly at me for a long moment, then looked back a Sirius who was trying unsuccessfully to appease the twins.

"So what _are_ we supposed to do? Sit here and twiddle our thumbs?" Fred was shouting.

"Yes," said Sirius with a note of finality. "Now sit. Please," he added as an afterthought.

The twins still glowered at him. "Don't make me pull my wand on you," warned Sirius, his voice calm but dangerous. "I'm not the only Wizard ever to have escaped from Azkaban unaided for nothing."

He held his ground, and at last, the twins sank into their chairs resignedly. Ron sat too, and Ginny perched on the hearth, twisting her hands. "That's better," said Sirius. "It's going to be a long night. I think some Butterbeer is in order. Kreacher!"

But no scowling house-elf appeared. "Where is the damned bugger?" Sirius muttered. "Kreacher!"

"It's OK, I'll get it," I said, desperate for an excuse to leave. It was a bad idea, though, for every head snapped in my direction. As I fled the room, I could hear several voices speaking at once. "Who is she?"

"Sirius, who the hell was that?"

I stumbled down the hall. The kitchen had an adjacent pantry, but we'd finished off all the Butterbeer there the night before at the party. The storage room was down the hall, a larger, musty room where Mrs. Weasley kept stocks of food. She claimed that we went through food even more quickly than her family, and insisted on keeping plenty of barrels and boxes of bulk potatoes, flour, oats, sugar, and other preservatives on demand. There were also crates of Butterbeer and meade, and I knew that Sirius had his own private store of Firewhisky there, though it was under a loose floorboard, hidden from Mrs. Weasley's sharp eyes.

In the storage room, I searched the shelves with trembling hands. Finally, I located six bottles of Butterbeer and one can of coke. Tonks always remembered to keep a few six-packs around, having learned my weakness for the Muggle drink. I didn't immediately head back to the kitchen, though. Instead, I sank onto one of the barrels, reluctant to leave. I didn't belong out there. I hadn't even known Mr. Weasley for two months…

Harry had said it was bad. I shuddered as I imagined a python-sized snake sinking its fangs into Mr. Weasley—and the thought pressed into my mind, _What if he dies?_

He couldn't die. He simply couldn't. I clenched my fists into balls and squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears that threatened to come. Why was it that everyone I became close to died? When I was ten, my grandparents on my mum's side had been killed in a car accident. My favorite aunt had died of cancer when I was thirteen. Then, my parents in the Death Eater attack; was Mr. Weasley to be next?

In my mind, I could see Mr. Weasley sitting at the kitchen table, telling me stories of the flying car he used to own, the pinching paper clips he'd rescued a little old lady from that day at work, the new-fangled contraption he'd brought home with him called a "viddy-o game" that lit up and made noises when you pressed a button, all with Mrs. Weasley looking on disapprovingly. I remembered how his eyes would light up whenever I mentioned something characteristically Muggle, how he'd lean forward and beg me to tell him more, how excited he'd be when I related stories of tellies and arcades and escalators and airplanes… And I recalled how he'd reminded me a little of my grandfather, the one who'd passed away—quirky, with a heart of gold.

The war suddenly felt very real and personal. People were actually dying. Tonks, Remus, Sirius, Mrs. Weasley…they could all be dead by the time Voldemort got done with us...

The cold fingers of fear gripped me, and I shuddered, wondering who else would die before the war was finally over. Was my life to be a perpetual cycle of gaining and losing loved ones?

And at last, the tears came.

I pulled my knees to my chest and cried, forgetting all about the Weasleys and Harry and Sirius, waiting in the kitchen for their drinks. I forgot about everything—everything but my dead parents, and Arthur Weasley, fighting for his life at St. Mungo's.

I'm not sure how much time I spent, curled up on the low barrel in the dimly lit storage room, but suddenly someone was calling my name and I looked up to find Sirius standing in the doorway. He looked stricken. "Oh, Libby."

"Sorry," I blubbered. "I forgot about the drinks…"

A second later, he was holding out a handkerchief, assuring me that it as OK, no one would blame me... I dabbed my cheeks and felt a flush of embarrassment.

"Sorry," I said again, accepting the hand he held out to help me up.

"'S alright," he said, a little uncomfortably. "Come back to the kitchen, will you?"

I nodded, and Sirius took the bottles of Butterbeer and the coke before leading the way out of the room. I furiously scrubbed at my face, but knew that it was no good. My first proper introduction to the Hogwarts students, and I looked like _this. _

"This is Libby," said Sirius to the group as we entered. I immediately noticed that Harry had sat down, but his chair was apart from the rest, in the shadows. He alone didn't look up when we entered. I gave a little embarrassed wave.

"Hi," I said timidly, self-conscious of my flushed, tear-stained face.

Sirius sat down, and I looked about, unsure of where to go or what to do. Fortunately, Ginny Weasley, it seemed, was the epitome of her mother. She was instantly at my side, tugging me over to the fireplace. "Sit by me," she commanded, and I obeyed. "Are you OK?" she asked, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I nodded.

"Who are you?" Ron blurted out, and his sister sent him a withering glare.

"Way to be a prat, Ron," Ginny snapped.

I looked at Sirius. "You didn't tell them anything?"

He shook his head. "I thought you should. It's your story anyway."

I shifted uncomfortably. "How much am I allowed to say?"

"You can tell them as much as you feel comfortable with," he replied. "It'd be no use keeping anything from this lot, anyway."

The twins were shooting curious glances at me; Ron was staring outright. Even Harry looked interested.

I took a shaky breath. "Well, you already know my name," I said. "I was raised Muggle and didn't know I was magical until last September when…" I hesitated, then looked down. "My parents were killed in a Death Eater attack."

One of the twins sucked in his breath quickly. Ginny gasped.

"But there was no news, nothing in the _Prophet,_" said Harry.

"You of all people should know that the _Prophet_ never prints anything useful, anyway," said George grimly.

"A Death Eater attack, though," Ron exclaimed, his eyes large. "I thought You-Know-Who was trying to keep low."

"I'll bet you anything even the attack still didn't convince those gits at the Ministry that he's really back," said Harry bitterly.

"They didn't," said Sirius. "But they did see fit to try and Obliviate Libby for knowing about the attack."

"They _Obliviated_ you?" exclaimed Fred. "Why?"

"Liability, I suppose," I told him.

"How is it you still remember everything, though?" Fred pressed.

"Yeah," said George. "How'd you escape from the Death Eaters in the first place?"

"I spent the night at a friend's house," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "When I came back, the police had blockaded the area, and the huge green skull and snake were hanging in the sky, and when I walked into my house, Mum and Dad were just lying there on the floor, with that empty, terrified expression on their faces…"

The room was completely silent, save for Ron's whispered, "Bloody hell."

I took a trembling breath, determined to continue, though I still refused to meet their eyes. "I guess I screamed, and all the windows in the house shattered. When the Aurors got there, Tonks was one of them, and she guessed that I was magical and brought me back to the Ministry. She let me stay at her flat, and Remus has been tutoring me, catching me up to fourth year material."

"But how'd you avoid getting Obliviated?" asked one of the twins, and I looked up for the first time. They were all staring at me, but Harry's gaze was the one I noticed first. He was watching me with an intense look, and suddenly I remembered that he _knew,_ that he'd lost his parents too…

"Snape gave me a potion," I said, a little surprised by their skeptical reactions. "No, really, he was quite nice about it."

Several people snorted this time, including Sirius. "Snape, _nice_?" said Fred. "Perhaps the day when McGonagall can take kitty jokes and Dumbledore acts his age."

I decided that it was useless to debate this particular topic any longer. "They Obliviated me then modified my memory, but since I had the potion, I was able to keep my old memories, and see exactly what they wanted me to think about myself."

"What were they wanting you to think?"

"I was going to become Libby Cree, a half-blood who grew up with my Muggle mother who kept me from knowing about my magic…" I trailed off. Suddenly, it all made perfect sense. "Sirius," I said, turning quickly to him. "_That's_ why they haven't sent over the blood tests! In my Obliviated state of mind, I wouldn't ever remember going to St. Mungo's, and I would already know who my parents were. They had no reason to tell me who I was _really _related to."

"Blood tests?" echoed Ginny blankly, absently spinning her empty Butterbeer bottle.

"But why wouldn't they have told Tonks?" I said, ignoring her.

"Tonks isn't a higher-level Auror," Sirius explained. "She's not privy to highly confidential information, and the fact that she's your guardian plays into it all too."

This was far more complicated than I'd first realised. "But then I'll never find out the truth," I said. "I'll never know for sure…"

"Know _what_?" said George.

I looked back at them. "My parents were my adopted family," I explained. "The Ministry thinks my blood family may have been magical, though why I was adopted is a mystery. Perhaps because they all thought I was a squib," I added as an afterthought, wondering what had really happened.

"But you aren't a squib."

"I was, though," I said. "My magic just manifested itself later in life than some."

Fred whistled. "What a mess."

I nodded.

"So when will you go to Hogwarts?" This was Ginny, this time.

"After holidays, I hope."

"That fast?"

"Remus was a good teacher," I said, smiling slightly. "But he skipped all the theory, and left out History of Magic altogether."

"Lucky," Ginny muttered next to me.

"And you're all caught up to…what, fourth year?" Ron said skeptically.

"Third," I corrected. "If I can finish half of fourth year over Christmas hols, I can go back with to Hogwarts with you lot."

Fred and George looked a little impressed. "A Ravenclaw for sure," they said together.

Sirius snorted. "Ha! You haven't seen the way she whines whenever she has to start her lessons…"

"Not true!" I exclaimed, turning red, and he threw his head back and laughed.

Was it my imagination, or had I seen a jealous look Harry had thrown us? I remembered that Sirius was his godfather, and made a mental note to back off a little.

"You lot must think I'm pathetic, crying in the storage room like that," I said awkwardly. "I mean, he's your dad and all…"

Their expressions turned somber; perhaps for a moment they'd forgotten about Mr. Weasley. "I just couldn't help it," I continued, looking at the floor. "Thinking of him made me remember everything so vividly…"

Ginny rubbed my shoulder comfortingly. "He'll be OK," she whispered. "He'll be OK…"

"We don't know that," said Fred, and there was a catch in his voice as he stared unseeingly ahead.

"I do," she whispered fiercely, and no one had anything else to say after that.

The long hours of the night passed slowly. I could feel my eyes growing heavier and heavier; already, Fred seemed to be dozing in his chair. George's head was nodding, and Ron's face was buried in his hands. Harry was staring off into space; Ginny was curled up in a little ball on the hearth, but her eyes were wide and alert. Sirius was pacing back and forth, his hair ruffled from the many times that night he'd run his fingers through it.

At last, there was a sound from the hallway, soft footsteps on the wood floor. Sirius froze; the doorknob turned, and when the door swung open, Mrs. Weasley was there.

Ron and George immediately jumped to their feet. Harry started in his chair.

After a long moment, Mrs. Weasley gave us a weak smile. "He's going to be fine," she said tiredly.

Sirius broke into smiles; Fred fell back into his chair. Ginny gave a gulping sob and ran to her mother. I suddenly realised I'd been holding my breath and let it out with a long sigh of relief.

"Well," said Ron with a shaky laugh. "Well."

Mrs. Weasley was quickly hugging everyone in the room. When she got to Harry, he looked as if he wanted to pull away. Then she rushed over to me. "Libby, sweetheart," she murmured. "Are you alright? It must have been so frightening for you."

"I'm fine," I assured her, trying in vain to wiggle out of the embrace. "I'm fine."

Fred and George were giving me odd looks after Mrs. Weasley finally released me. "What?" I said irritably.

They exchanged glances.

"It looks to me like Mum's just adopted another one," said Fred with a dramatic sigh.

"We thought Harry would be the last, for sure," said George.

"But now you."

"We'd like to offer you our condolences," said Fred seriously.

"Me?" I said skeptically. "No… I've only known her for a couple of months…"

"It only took her two minutes to adopt Harry," George told me.

"But you're right, of course," said Fred. "You won't be a true Weasley until she yells at you or orders you around…"

"Fred, George, come set the table for breakfast," Mrs. Weasley suddenly called.

"See?" they said in unison.

It was decided over hastily prepared eggs and bacon that we would wait until the afternoon to visit Mr. Weasley. "It's no use now," said Mrs. Weasley. "He's sleeping. But I'm sure he'll want to see you all later." She yawned. "I myself feel the need for a good long nap."

I saw heads nodding in agreement. We'd already had to wake Ron up when he'd dozed off right in the middle of the meal.

"Ginny, dear," called Mrs. Weasley. "I've put you in a room with Libby…we simply don't enough room to let everyone have their own rooms, not with Tonks and Remus staying here at nights as well…"

Ginny flashed me a tired, but genuine smile, and I grinned back. "Come on," I said. "I'll show you the room."

**Author's Note: **Wasn't planning on updating so soon—you won't believe the school load I have this semester—but someone sent me a really nice review and it inspired me to write some over my weekend. Now it's one in the morning, so I'll head off to bed. For those of you who like longer chapters, I hope the next one will be longer, but on average I've been sticking to 3000-word chapters. Next time, a visit to St. Mungo's, Christmas at Grimmauld Place, Hermione's arrival… I'm thinking only one more chapter before she heads off to Hogwarts, which, I'm sure, will make quite a few of you happy.

Random thought of the day: It's spring in Tennessee—the weather is gorgeous. Cheers!


	18. Pranks and Stitches

When the bright sunbeams of light awoke me, at first I wasn't sure what had happened. I stretched and yawned, confused as to why I was still in bed at such a late hour. Blinking, I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to adjust to the light; then I looked around. The room seemed no different—except for the redheaded girl sprawled on the bed across the room.

The events of the night came flooding back: the party, the midnight chaos, the arrival of the Hogwarts crew, the news from Mrs. Weasley, the early breakfast…

How late had I slept? Obviously no one had left for the hospital yet—Ginny was still here, after all. A few hours? All day? The light outside looked like an afternoon sun, but I couldn't be sure. It'd been so long since I'd spent substantial time out of doors, not with the intensive tutoring and all. Groaning I raised up to glance at the bedside clock: the numbers read 12:25. I flopped back on the bed, closing my eyes. It didn't sound as if the rest of the house awake, so there really was no point to getting up yet.

I pulled the blankets over my head and tried to fall asleep as I listened to the faint sounds from the street outside and the soft snores coming from the other bed. Then, just as I was beginning to drift off, there was a soft knock at the door and then the knob turned.

"Sleepyheads," said Tonks. "Get up; we're leaving for St. Mungo's in half an hour."

I groaned and shifted a little, but couldn't immediately locate a pillow to throw at her. Ginny hadn't moved at all.

"Oi, Ginny!" called Tonks, and the other girl finally moved a little.

"Go 'way."

Tonks repeated her message, adding that if we didn't get up, we'd most likely be left behind, and have Mrs. Weasley's wrath to face as well. I didn't like the sound of either, as I was anxious to see Mr. Weasley and I had experienced, if not first hand, the extent of Mrs. Weasley's temper on several occasions, usually involving Mundungus Fletcher or Sirius in the form of Padfoot.

Slowly I pushed myself out of bed and began rummaging around in for something to wear. Ginny groggily got up, looking very grumpy and bedraggled with her hair going everywhere. She stared around at the room for a moment, then said, "Oh, bloody hell."

"What is it?"

"I don't have a _thing_ to wear," she complained. "Everything is still at Hogwarts. Oh, god, I can't go out looking like this."

I tossed her a clean towel from the drawer. "There's shower stuff in the bathroom down the hall, and if you want to borrow some clothes, you look about my size."

"Really?" said Ginny, looking considerably more cheerful. "That'd be brilliant."

I tossed her a pair of jeans and a shirt, which she caught, amazingly enough; my aim was never that great. Oh, well. I seem to remember her mother talking about her playing Seeker on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

Quidditch is the one thing I haven't figured out yet. Tonks tried to teach me the rules of the game and outline the basic positions, but I just didn't get it. The fact that I have no interest in flying might also factor in—but mostly I just like to think that it'll all click when I actually see my first match.

Apparently, Quidditch isn't the only thing I'm not accustomed to. After Ginny left, I sauntered over to the mirror to try and tame my wild mop of hair. I wasn't succeeding, when suddenly, a voice came from seemingly nowhere. "If I had hair like yours, I think I'd just go throw myself in front of the Hogwarts Express."

I actually yelled. I know, I know…super embarrassing, letting a _mirror_ scare the crap out of me, but it had never said anything before! You can hardly blame me.

"What's that!? Who's there?"

"Relax, I'm the mirror."

I stared at it, but it looked completely normal mirror. My wide-eyed, disheveled face stared back at me in the reflection. "You _talk_?"

"Of course I talk. I'm a _mirror._ I just don't talk to _you."_

I glared at my reflection. "Why the heck didn't you say something before now?"

The mirror sniffed. "I don't associate with the lesser Wizarding classes."

I rolled my eyes. Typical. Most of the animated objects in Grimmauld Place were prejudiced against anyone who wasn't a Pureblood. I turned back to the mirror, regarding it with curiosity. Sure, it was stuck up and had a major attitude, but still, a _talking mirror…_ "Wow. You talk."

"Wow. That was such a deeply intellectual observation. If you make one joke about Snow White and the mirror on the wall, I'll…I'll…"

"What?" I asked, genuinely curious as to what type of threat a _mirror_ would make.

"I'll tell the next person who comes in here that you mutter Sirius's name in your sleep."

I was horrified. "I do NOT!"

The mirror seemed to smirk. Can mirrors do that? "I can be very convincing. I'm a very good liar."

I glared at it, but was at a loss for words, so I reached for a long sleeved shirt and pulled it over my camisole before hastily grabbing my wand and brush and rushing from the room. "Brainless Mudblood," I thought I heard the mirror mutter.

Rushing through the hall, I found the staircase and began to ascend to the third floor to look for an open bathroom. I rounded the corner, and ran smack into a tall redhead wearing red and white striped pajamas.

"Sorry," I mumbled, as the identical twin laughed. "Sorry."

The twin I'd run into grinned at me, then widened his eyes in mock horror. "Libby…oh, Libby, what happened?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Um, I had an encounter with a talking mirror, but…"

"No," exclaimed George. Was it George? He had a great big "G" on the front of his pajamas. "No, I mean, whatever happened to your hair?"

"My hair?" I repeated, still confused. Then I remembered exactly what my face had looked like when I left the room. "Oh, no…"

"Did Hurricane Ivan come to visit?"

"Are there birds' nests in there?"

"I think dreadlocks would look neater in this case…"

"And the frizz…we could use it as kindling to start a dozen fires."

"What type of shampoo do you use?"

"Conditioner?"

"How about cutting it all off and wearing a wig?"

"Guys!" I shouted. "Stop it!"

"Awww, Lib," said Fred, giving me a lopsided grin. "It's just for fun."

"But really, we do have something that might help." He pressed a small tube into my hand. I lifted it up to the light. "Anita's Awesome Anti-Frizz Answer," read the label.

I regarded it cautiously. "You're sure this will work?"

They looked at each other, then back at me, and nodded. "It'll work," George assured me. "Besides, it's not as if you have much time to figure out any other charms or beauty treatments. Dinner's nearly ready."

"Crap," I muttered. "Thanks guys."

They gave me identical grins that left me feeling rather uneasy, but I left them and finally found an empty bathroom. After a few more attempts at putting my hair to rights, I finally surrendered and squeezed out a generous amount of cream into my palm, then rubbed it into my hair.

Amazingly, it worked. My mop began to settle down, and a slow grin crept over my face. I actually looked presentable. After washing my face, I left the loo and traveled down the three flights of stairs.

The kitchen was busy; Mrs. Weasley was at the stove, stirring something in a big pot. Tonks was talking quickly to someone thorough the Floo connection, and Sirius was lounged in a kitchen chair, reading the _Daily Prophet_ with his feet on the table.

"Where is everyone?" I asked, entering the room. Sirius looked up, and instantly his jaw dropped. I frowned at his expression, and immediately looked down to make sure my fly wasn't open or I wasn't wearing mismatched socks. But I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing dearie," said Mrs. Weasley from the stove, turning to greet me, but her eyes instantly widened and she dropped the spoon she was holding. "FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!" she bellowed, and instantly I knew there was something wrong with my hair. Suddenly terrified, I reached back and pulled a strand over my shoulder. Somehow, in the course of my journey from the upstairs bathroom to the kitchen, my hair had turned a brilliant colour of orange.

It wasn't even normal-orange, either. Not like Ginny's or Ron's hair. It was even brighter, a Garfield-colour orange. It wasn't just the colour, though—they had made my hair into three times the mess it had originally. I stared furiously into the mirror behind the kitchen door and seethed.

"I'm going to MURDER them!" I hissed, suddenly wishing that Remus and Sirius had taught me some of the more creative hexes and jinxes.

"Murder who?" said Tonks, pulling her head out of the fire place. Then she caught sight of me. "Oh."

I glared at her, daring her to laugh. Her lips twitched. Once, twice, then she lost it and doubled over. Sirius joined in with his sharp, bark-like laugh, and I let forth something like an angry bellow. "They are SO DEAD!!"

Needless to say, Fred and George didn't appear again until _after_ the meal, and then there were too many witnesses for me to murder them in cold blood.

* * *

Entering the waiting room of St. Mungo's was most definitely the strangest experience I'd ever had in my life. Ever. And since I discovered that I was a witch, I've had a lot of those.

But walking through glass? And talking to a _mannequin?_

But I didn't complain, remembering with dreadful clarity my very first experience with the Floo Network. I'd rather walk through glass any day.

Anyway, I tried not to look at the grossly disfigured occupants of rickety chairs lining the waiting room as Mrs. Weasley stepped primly up to the receptionist. "Excuse me," she began, but the receptionist cut her off.

"Fourth floor, spell damage," she said in a bored voice.

We all paused in various stages of confusion. "Excuse me," started Mrs. Weasley.

"Dad's not here for spell damage," said George blankly.

"I meant for her," snapped the receptionist, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at me.

Instantly, both twins and Ron doubled over in laughter. Tonks and even Harry looked as if they were trying very hard not to laugh. "That's not nice!" exclaimed Ginny, coming quickly to my rescue, and whacking Ron on the back of the head.

"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley tightly, glaring at the receptionist through narrowed eyes. "We're here to see my _husband, _Arthur Weasley."

The woman shrugged, not looking sorry at all. "First floor, second door on the ri—."

"Thank you," said Mrs. Weasley coldly, before stalking past the desk over to the lift.

I remembered this part—the creaky lift doors clanged open and we all stepped inside. This time, however, we got off on the first floor and headed down a narrow corridor lined with portraits of famous Healers. I noticed a lot of witches and wizards wearing lime green robes. "Healers," said Tonks, leaning close. I was surprised. The Healer who had seen me on my first visit hadn't looked at all like these ones, but then again she might have been a specialist or Ministry-employed.

When we reached Mr. Weasley's room, Mrs. Weasley knocked three rapid beats before pushing open the door. Mr. Weasley lay on the hospital bed closest to the door. He was propped up with several overstuffed pillows, talking animatedly with Kingsley Shacklebolt, his comfortable button-up pajamas open to reveal a large white dressing over his shoulder and chest. He immediately glanced over and his face brightened. "Molly! Children!"

"I'll wait outside," volunteered Tonks; Shacklebolt followed her and so did Mrs. Weasley after pecking her husband on the cheek and promising to be right back. There was a split second of awkwardness, and then Ginny rushed at her father.

"Dad! How are you feeling?"

"Never better," Mr. Weasley beamed, and I marveled again at the wonders of Wizarding medicine. "Fred, George! Staying out of trouble?"

"I think you already know the answer to that question," said Fred, rolling his eyes, but I thought he looked a little shaky with relief.

"And Ron, so good to see you, son. And you brought Harry!"

Harry waved awkwardly. Then Mr. Weasley spotted me.

"Libby, I've got something marvelous to show you!" he called, grinning widely, and I shyly made my way forward. He beckoned for me to lean in closer and whispered, "Don't tell Molly, but the Healers can't seem to close the wounds, so they tried something Muggle—something called . . . stitches, I think."

I grinned. "I've had those before. I'll bet Harry has too."

"Ah, right, he grew up Muggle," said Mr. Weasley. "Harry, m'boy, did you ever have stitches?"

Harry shook his head. "Not that I didn't need them," he said under his breath, though not bitterly. I wondered exactly how much care his Muggle relatives had given him.

Ginny, Ron, and the twins were staring blankly at the three of us. "They're kind of like stitching in clothing," I explained. "The surgeon—uh, Healer—takes a needle and thread and literally stitches the cut closed. It works real well." I rolled up my sleeve and showed them a long, thin scar where I'd sliced my arm up playing with a pocket knife when I was younger. "See? I got stitches here—fifteen of them."

Ginny winced; Ron looked revolted. Fred and George exchanged a mutual glance. "Cool," they chorused.

But at that moment, Mrs. Weasley appeared again, her face red and furious. "Arthur, you let them put _stitches _in you?" she bellowed.

The poor man in the bed by the window winced.

Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared behind her, wringing his hands. "I'm sorry, Arthur," he called over our heads. "It just slipped out . . ."

Ginny giggled softly. "I think that's our cue to leave," she said under her breath to me.

"No, no," said Ron, grinning. "It's just getting good."

"Libby said that it was perfectly safe!" blurted out Mr. Weasley and I glared at him. But it was too late—Mrs. Weasley pounced on me.

"She did, did she?" she spat, glaring at me. "How would you know?"

I hurriedly shoved up my sleeve. "Here, see? This was a cut from a pocket knife when I was ten, and it's all healed up."

She examined my arm with a critical eye. "It leaves a scar."

"A few scars wouldn't be the end of the world, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. Then his voice hardened. "I'll be happy if that's all I walk away with after last night."

Instantly the mood darkened. Mrs. Weasley pressed her lips together and glanced over at Kingsley. "Have you heard anything yet?"

He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes resting briefly on us. "Yes, but . . ."

"Right. Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, Libby, Harry, everyone out," said Mrs. Weasley briskly, clapping her hands. "Go amuse yourself, and try not to get into trouble. We'll only be a few minutes."

There were a few groans and Aw Mum's, but eventually we'd all filed out into the dingy hallway. Tonks looked up when we exited. "I think that'll be my cue," she said, flashing us a dorky smile and tripping over her army boots on her way back into the hospital room. The door shut, and for a moment we could hear the low voices before there was silence, signifying the presence of Silencing Charms.

"Quick," hissed George. "The Extendable Ears!"

Fred dug around in his pockets and pulled out a handful of thin, fleshy-looking objects and before I could ask what they were, Ginny had passed one to me and instructed me to stick the small end in my ear. I slid the other end under the doorway, and instantly, I could hear their voices as clearly as I would were I standing in the room.

" . . . Nagini, the snake," Shacklebolt was saying. "It's _his_ personal snake—he must have ordered it to try and get into the Department."

"Did you see it?" asked Tonks quietly.

"Only a glimpse before it struck me." This was Mr. Weasley. "Thank God Harry saw it even as it was happening. I'm just worried about whoever is on watch right now—he might try again—"

"Mad-Eye and Remus are there now, and I think between the two they'd be a match for any reinforcements You-Know-Who might bring. But we've got bigger problems than that," said Shacklebolt.

"Yeah," put in Tonks in a frightened voice. "Dumbledore said that Harry saw the whole scene through You-Know-Who's eyes! I mean, if he's being possessed . . ."

There was a stunned silence, on both sides of the door. I stared at Harry. Fred and George had dropped their earpieces, and Ginny quickly covered her mouth with both hands. Ron about summed it up with two words: "Bloody hell."

* * *

When we arrived back at Grimmauld Place, Harry disappeared, and I really didn't blame him. Not after that. At least I wasn't the center of attention anymore.

When Mrs. Weasley went upstairs to call him for dinner, he was asleep. The rest of us ate in silence, refusing to discuss what had happened, but not brave enough to attempt another topic of conversation either. When Mrs. Weasley suggested that we turn in, we were all ready to retire early, after the exhausting night and scanty sleep we'd gotten that morning. Nevertheless, when I was finally in bed, I couldn't sleep for the longest time, and an occasional sigh from Ginny's side of the room let me know that I wasn't the only one still awake.

* * *

In the early afternoon the next day, Hermione Granger arrived. We had just finished lunch when the doorbell rang. "Who on earth could that be?" complained Mrs. Weasley, bustling out of the kitchen into the entry hall. We didn't pay her any mind—people were always coming and going from Grimmauld Place. Sometimes I wondered whether a Death Eater striding into Grimmauld Place would immediately be singled out, or rather just accepted as "the norm."

A minute later, Hermione Granger had walked into the kitchen, her face flushed from the winter chill, her hair even bushier than I remembered--of course, I wasn't one to talk about bushy hair, seeing that mine was still brilliant orange. "Oh, I was so worried when I heard," she exclaimed, rushing to hug Ginny, then Ron. "I woke up and you lot had disappeared, and of course no one knew what had happened and I had to wait a whole day before I could leave . . . who're you?"

I liked her already. "I'm Libby," I said, holding out a hand.

But to my surprise, instead of shaking it, she gave me a warm hug. "Oh, I've heard so much about you!" she exclaimed. "It's so good to finally meet you in person."

"Likewise, I'm sure," I said, smiling. "Though I swear I don't usually look this way," I added as she took in my appearance.

The Weasleys looked surprised. "How come we didn't know about Libby, then?" asked Ginny, frowning.

Hermione chuckled. "Well, Ron may not read his letters from his mum, but I do," she said matter-of-factly. "Well, before we couldn't get mail anymore because Umbridge started watching it. And then I asked Professor McGonagall to fill in the details and she told me pretty much everything." She beamed at me. "It'll be so nice to have someone else with Muggle background around. All the Weasleys are completely incompetent, though Harry usually knows what I'm talking about . . ." she trailed off, looking around the room. "Where's Harry?"

Ginny and I looked at each other and Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, but at that moment the doorbell rang again and she bustled out of the room. Ginny quickly leaned closer. "He's hiding," she said.

"Hiding? But why—"

Quickly we filled her in on the details of the overheard conversation. "And now he's avoiding us," Ron finished, looking forlorn. "We're not quite sure what to do."

Hermione crossed her arms. "We'll see about that," she said firmly, and I was pretty sure that if anyone could get Harry to come out of hiding, it would be her.

Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen followed by Emmeline Vance who waved merrily at us before heading for the refrigerator. "Mrs. Weasley, where am I supposed to stay?" asked Hermione.

"I'm going to put a bunk bed into Ginny and Libby's room," she replied. "While I'm working on that, maybe you can see if you can find Harry?"

Hermione beamed. "Perfect," she said, and I shifted a little uncomfortably.

Mrs. Weasley noticed. "Libby, you can help me if you want," she offered and I jumped on the proposition, picking up Hermione's suitcase and following her out of the kitchen.

* * *

Whatever Hermione said worked, because when I finally finished lugging the heavy wooden bed piece down two flights of stairs to my room and attaching it to the top of Ginny's bed, Harry appeared in the living room, looking himself again, though I wasn't quite sure how he acted normally. It was clear after a very short time that Harry was a lot quieter than his friends. Ron and Hermione did most of the talking, and but when Harry spoke, everyone listened. He was probably quieter for a reason, however, because sometimes I'd catch him staring off into space, a dark look in his brilliantly green eyes. He seemed more cheerful whenever Sirius was around, but of course Sirius had the natural talent of lifting the clouds on a dreary day.

Right now, Harry's godfather was trotting about the house singing "Deck the Halls with Tap-dancing Tinsel" and "Hordolf the Horny Humbug" (both Wizarding versions of Muggle Christmas carols, I noted) at the top of his lungs, hauling out old Christmas decorations that looked about as dark as Grimmauld Place itself, but Mrs. Weasley said they could be salvaged and charmed to look more festive.

When the doorbell rang again, Remus appeared in the kitchen and after being bombarded with enthusiastic greetings from the Hogwarts students, he turned to me with raised eyebrows. "What, no studying?"

I gave him an innocent look. "Mr. Weasley's in St. Mungo's and you expect me to have the concentration to _study_?"

He simply gave me a look and I sighed. "Fine, fine, I'll do some studying tonight . . ."

Hermione's face brightened. "Studying?"

Ron groaned. "Stop acting like the word is synonymous with 'Hogsmeade' or 'sweets,' Hermione!"

She scowled at him. "I was just going to offer any help if Libby needed it, _Ronald."_

Anxious to restore the peace, I jumped in quickly. "Actually, I am having trouble with some Transfiguration homework. If I don't finish up the first half of the fourth year material, I may not be able to go to Hogwarts with you lot after holidays . . ."

Ron still looked grumpy, but he begrudgingly admitted that if I couldn't come to Hogwarts, it _would_ kind of suck.

Hermione beamed. "Great!" she said excitedly. "Where shall we start?"

And so Hermione became my tutor. Sirius gladly gave up the job and devoted himself to transforming Grimmauld Place into the very epitome of Christmas cheer. Remus released his hold on me with a little more reluctance, but he had to admit that of all the other people I could have picked as tutors, Hermione was by far the most competent.

And me? I enjoyed working with her. She was thorough and patient, and of course a bloody genius at Transfiguration. When I asked if it was her best subject she shrugged. "Not really," she said. "I mean, I do well in it, but my best subject is Arrithmancy or Ancient Runes, I believe."

I had never heard of those classes and was a bit disappointed to find that you had to start those classes in your third year. "Oh, if you want to join one once you're caught up, I can tutor you," she offered brightly.

"Really?"

"Really," she assured me. "It'll be no problem, I swear."

I also found out that Hermione Granger was intensely curious. When she found about the missing Ministry bloodline tests, she was furious. "That's outrageous!" she ranted; it was Christmas Eve and all of us were sitting around in the girls' room, since it was the largest of all.

"It's not as if I can do anything about it," I mumbled dejectedly. "They're not going to tell me the results because they think my memory has been completely erased and modified."

"Of course there's things we can do about it," said Hermione, sitting up straighter. "Do you have any idea how large the Hogwarts library is? We could start by looking into what exactly a bloodline test is composed of, and decide whether or not we could do it ourselves. Then, we could look through all the old Ministry records of marriages that were performed before 1981 and we might even be able to get a hold of the birthing records at St. Mungo's. And if none of that worked, we could simply look though old yearbooks from Hogwarts and see who you look like . . ."

"Which wouldn't help if my blood parents went to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons," I reminded her.

She looked just a little offended. "That's highly unlikely. If your parents were from another country, don't you think you'd be living in France or somewhere else right now?"

I shrugged. "Good point."

She smiled determinedly at me. "Don't worry, Libby. I'll get to the bottom of this."

"Meaning she'll snoop around in everyone's business until she finds the answers," Ron put in, grinning good-naturedly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You can say that again."

* * *

Christmas Day dawned bright and cold, though I wouldn't know from personal experience—we weren't allowed out of the house without adult supervision. Presents were exchanged in the morning with plans to visit Mr. Weasley in the afternoon. Unfortunately, I was not allowed to come; Tonks had cornered me after the first visit and told me that she'd spotted both Healer Johnson and Madame Edgecombe at St. Mungo's, flooing in just as we were leaving. She was sure they'd come to spy on me, as they somehow knew I might be visiting Mr. Weasley, but since we'd come earlier, they'd just missed us. Anyway, Tonks didn't want to take any risks and thought it was best if I stay home. I was a little disappointed, but Sirius was ecstatic, whispering to me that we could finally have that little "discussion" we'd put off for weeks regarding developments between our favorite werewolf and metamorphagus. I was just glad he wouldn't be alone for the afternoon.

At two o'clock, the entire Weasley family accompanied by Harry and Hermione bundled out the door, wishing me good luck and offering their condolences. Once they were gone, Sirius grabbed my arm and hauled me into the living room, plopping me down on the chair. "Talk," he commanded.

I grinned. "What d'you want to know?"

"Everything!"

So I began at the beginning, and told him about the cautious looks Tonks and Remus exchanged; I explained how clumsy she became whenever he was around, related the teasing that went on between the two, and even told him about the time when they'd been 'demonstrating' dancing for me after we bested the Ministry and how it looked like they'd been having quite a good time dancing with each other. I then told him all my suspicions and theories. "He thinks he's too poor and too old for her, and that's not counting the fact that he's a werewolf," I finished.

"And Tonks?" asked Sirius.

I shrugged. "D'you honestly think she'd care about any of that?"

He laughed. "You're right about that one. She's always been a non-conformist."

"I think she really likes him," I said. "I mean, she stares at him all the time, freaks out whenever he's coming over because her hair isn't 'right,' laughs at anything remotely funny he says, knocks things over more when he's around . . ."

He rubbed his chin. "I can see your point. I can't believe it—Mooney's in love!"

"I wouldn't go that far . . ." I protested, but he raised his eyebrows at me and my shoulders sagged. "OK, OK. They're in love."

"Now," said Sirius deviously, "all we have to figure out is how we're going to get them together."

**A/N: **An update for you. Cheers! School is finally over and I only have two more hospital shifts to work before my nursing Practicum is finished. I know I promised that Libby would go to Hogwarts this chapter, but it turns out it'll be next chapter (usually when I get over four thousand words I go ahead and post). So next chapter will be some general fun with trying to hook Remus and Tonks up, and then the journey to Hogwarts, and of course the Sorting.

I realise that the whole hospital scene is not quite like the book as I didn't exactly have a copy of OOTP on me when I wrote it, but it's close enough (and besides, I think it's incredibly boring when authors rewrite canon and copy it all word for word. The whole point of rewriting canon is to make it _different_, y'know?).

Make my day: review.


	19. The Sorting Hat

In the course of three weeks, Hermione Granger did wonders to my schooling. Only four Transfiguration spells remained, and two charms. It was the night before we were to return to Hogwarts, and Mrs. Weasley had thrown us a party in typical Molly Weasley style: piles of food, loads of people, and Celestina Warbeck.

"Gaw, if I hear 'Love's Not Just for Fairies' one more time, I'll go insane!" cried Sirius emphatically. "I wonder if _Avada Kedavra_ works on radios?"

There were quite a few Order members at Grimmauld Place tonight, excluding of course Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape, and I couldn't imagine _him_ at a party anyway. Snape wasn't the social type; I pictured him in his dungeon listening to one of Bach's toccatas in a minor key, hovering over a big cauldron of some particularly nasty-smelling awful-looking potion, and having a marvelous time.

"Never tried it," said Fred and George together, in reply to Sirius's question. They looked interested though—never a good sign.

"It's illegal!" began Hermione, and Ron snorted.

"Cor, Hermione, he was _joking,_" he exclaimed. "Learn how to take a joke."

"Sirius shouldn't be joking about something like that," she huffed, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. As much as I loved Hermione Granger, she _really _needed to loosen up. "You're far too flippant about the really _important_ things, Ronald."

"Well, at least I don't have my head shoved up my . . ."

"Children!" Mrs. Weasley barked; she'd just entered the room carrying a huge plate of cookies, and from the aroma wafting up, freshly baked ones at that.

Ron and Hermione retreated, but both still looked stormy. I shot a glance over at Harry, but he didn't look disturbed. He must have been used to it by now, I figured. I hadn't had much time to get to know Harry over the holiday; he was more reserved than the other two, keeping to himself, and Ron stuck by his side like glue, making it hard for me to really engage in friendly conversation. Hermione, however, had become a fast friend, despite her tendency to go into 'lecture mode.'

"Hey, Libby, betcha can't eat half that plate of cookies before George here does."

That was Fred; I looked up and saw him and George grinning at me. Somehow, they'd managed to snag the entire plate of cookies from under their mum's nose. I glanced over and saw that Mrs. Weasley had her back to us and was engaged in conversation with Emmeline Vance over next to the fireplace.

"And what'll you give me if I do?" I said suspiciously.

"Nothing . . . unless . . ."—his grin became wider—"you want to put money on it?"

"A galleon."

"Make it two," said George.

Fred separated the cookies, stacking them up in equal piles. Ten for each of us.

"What on earth are you doing, Fred?" Ginny had appeared out of nowhere, throwing herself onto the couch. She had . . . was that _tinsel_ in her hair?

As I gaped, George kicked me under the card table we were sitting at. He met my gaze squarely, almost daring me to tell.

I wasn't afraid of him, and I was by no means on his side, not after the red hair incident—it'd lasted two whole weeks! "Ginny, uh, you've got something in your hair."

She reached up to pat her head, and her expression turned from confusion to outrage as she pulled the shiny piece of blue tinsel from her hair.

"I didn't do it, I swear, Gin," said Fred automatically, looking a bit scared. I would be too, if I were the recipient of a death glare like the one Ginny was currently sending her twin brothers. "It was George," Fred continued, pointing at his twin.

"Oy, it wasn't me, you git," said George. "I saw you put it in her hair."

"Did not . . ."

"Both of you better be glad I can't use my wand out of school yet," growled Ginny, fingering the wand I knew she always carried on her person. I'd learned quickly never to get on Ginny's bad side—which wasn't that hard, as the two of us had become good friends. The Bat-bogey Hexes I'd heard about from a different source—her older brothers.

"Well, Lib? What's the delay?"

George was waiting. "Two galleons. I'm not made of money," I said.

"Hang on, what are you doing?" said Ginny.

"Libby here has just agreed to have a cookie-eating contest," said Fred, but he was cut off by Ginny's squawk of indignation.

"Against you? What are you two playing at?"

"Nothing! She came up with the idea herself!" It wasn't exactly true, but I _really _didn't like the look George was shooting at me now, so this time I kept silent. As Ginny fought it out with her older brothers, my attention wavered and I glanced across the room.

Mrs. Weasley was, thankfully, still engaged in conversation with Emmeline. Mundungus Fletcher had an attentive audience comprised of Bill, Charlie, and Sturgis Podmore as he told a particularly captivating tale of smuggling magic carpets out of India. Across the room, Mad-Eye Moody had his back turned, but I had a feeling that he was watching Mundungus anyway with that creepy magical eye of his. Remus and Tonks were, unsurprisingly, together on the sofa, talking and laughing as they sipped mugs of hot cocoa. I caught Sirius's eye and he gave me two thumbs up before pretending to shoot arrows at the oblivious couple and draw hearts in the air over their heads.

I turned away, muffling my laughter in my sweater sleeve. Since Christmas, Sirius and I had tried every trick in the book to get Tonks and Remus together. Every meal, the only chair left when Remus arrived late would be next to Tonks; likewise with the seating arrangements in the living room. At every turn, Sirius was cracking a joke with romantic connotations, or making sly insinuations about Remus and Tonks. He'd even somehow switched around the guard duty schedules so that the two potential lovebirds were always on together. If Remus knew he was being set up, he didn't show it. At first, I was incredulous, then simply amused at his state of obliviousness.

Tonks, on the other hand, knew right off what we were up to, but she didn't say anything either. Instead, she expressed her gratitude in a few subtle winks. Sirius had been enthralled. "It's working!" he'd announced to me confidently.

But after two weeks, Remus still hadn't made any sort of move, and my hopes were beginning to wane. Perhaps he was just too nervous to state his feelings. Perhaps he himself didn't even _know_ how he felt, though Sirius and I had been trying to help him realise that he and Tonks were perfect for each other for weeks now.

Anyway, if things continued like this, _Tonks_ would have to be the first to make a move. Either that, or Sirius and I were going to have to become more direct in our approach.

". . .isn't that right, Libby?"

I pulled myself out of my reverie. "Uh, yeah," I said, not quite sure what I was agreeing to.

"See?" said Fred triumphantly. "No tricks, Ginny. Just a simple contest."

Ginny didn't look convinced. "I get to say when you start and I'm the judge of who wins," she said stubbornly.

"Fine."

"And you have to switch stacks of cookies, just in case you enchanted Libby's or something."

"Done."

"Alright," she said unhappily. "Ready, set . . . go."

I stuffed the first two cookies in my mouth and chewed furiously, gulping them down only a second after George finished his. I took the third cookie and was able to swallow it pretty much whole, giving me a slight lead. Four, five, six . . .

Then, during the seventh cookie, disaster struck. I looked up to find that Fred had vanished. Twisting around, I saw him standing next to Tonks, and I only caught the last word of his request—"Please?"

And as she scrunched her face up, I knew exactly what was going on, even before Tonks's nose began to lengthen, and her face turned a waxy pale color, and her ears grew larger . . . it was the Pinocchio face, and though I tried my hardest—squeezing my eyes shut, trying to think of anything else, concentrating on chewing—a single snort emerged, followed by more laughter until I was red-faced and shaking.

By the time I was able to swallow again, George had polished off all ten of his cookies and was grinning smugly at me. "Two galleons, pay up."

"No fair!" I choked. "Distractions weren't part of the agreement."

"I don't remember anything being said about distractions _not_ being allowed," said Fred.

"You'd better watch your backs when you get to Hogwarts," warned Ginny, a dangerous glint in her eyes, and her brothers looked properly subdued. Nevertheless, a deal was a deal, so I dashed upstairs to grab a couple galleons. In my room, I nearly ran smack into Hermione, who was in the room, hugging a large book to her chest.

"What are you doing here? The party's downstairs?"

"Oh," she said, blushing. "I just thought of something I wanted to look up, and I didn't feel like staying downstairs any longer."

I wondered if Ron's words had cut a bit deeper than anyone realised. "What did you look up?"

"Haven't, yet," she replied, brightening a little. If there was one way to cheer Hermione up, it was bringing up her latest knowledge-seeking ventures. "I was thinking, why wait till we get back to start searching for your parents when I've got a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ that gives histories on the most prestigious students in the school's history, the Quidditch teams, the Prefects, the Heads, and the Valedictorians of each class for the past fifty years."

"It holds all that?"

"And this is just the abridged version. The unabridged is over four thousand pages long," said Hermione, her eyes sparkling. "I'm going to start now. Want to join me?"

My last night before heading off to 'real' school? Not a chance in the world. "Sorry, I promised Ginny I'd be right back," I said hastily, and she wilted a bit. "But maybe a little later," I continued, and she shot me a genuine smile.

"Later, then."

Downstairs, I reluctantly forked over the two galleons to George, who pocketed them smugly. Ginny was looking around the room anxiously. "Where'd Hermione go?"

"Oh, she was upstairs doing some research," I assured her. "Got tired of the party, I'd imagine."

"More like tired of my git of a brother," muttered Ginny, and I peered at her curiously. Obviously I wasn't the only one who'd noticed that Ron and Hermione bickered more than all the rest of the Weasleys combined—and as Mrs. Weasley had seven children, this was quite astounding.

"Where'd Hermione go?" asked Harry coming over to where we were. He looked concerned, which surprised me, as he'd pretty much been wrapped up in his own little world for the last two weeks.

"Upstairs, studying," said Ginny, rolling her eyes and grinning.

"Like I didn't see that one coming," said Harry, grinning back. He turned back to Ron, and . . . was it my imagination, or had Ginny's cheeks just turned a shade darker?

I certainly had a lot to think about.

We didn't dance that night. Perhaps it was because there wasn't as much wine and meade being passed around. We did play games though, half a dozen wild rounds of Exploding Snap in which even the adults took part. Tonks and Remus teamed up and won three games, Ginny and Harry finally caught on and won the next round, and Sirius got both eyebrows scorched—I suspected foul play on the twins' part.

Later, I'd look back on that night as the last truly relaxed evening I'd have in a long, long time. Temporarily, we'd forgotten all about You-Know-Who and the impending war. For a few brief hours, we could be ourselves; we could laugh, and forget, for just a night, that a world of pain and darkness still existed.

* * *

On my way up the stairs, much later that night, Sirius caught up to me. "I think that went well," he speculated.

"Did you see the way they ganged up on the rest of us during the game?" I crowed. "That must mean . . ."

"Sssh."

Around the corner, I heard voices filtering down the hall. Loud, upset voices.

". . . you don't know what you're saying . . ."

That was Remus. I crept closer, flattening myself against the wall. Sirius followed.

"But I do, Remus, I know _exactly_ what I want!" Tonks's voice was shaking with restrained fury.

"You can't possibly want me, Nymphadora." Remus suddenly sounded many years older. "You're young and confused . . ."

"I may be young, but I am _not_ confused!" She was shouting now. "I know what love is, Remus; I had it once, and I gave it up, and I will _not_ let it slip through my fingers again. I don't want money or security or even children . . . I want _you. _And you made me believe, if only for a brief time, that you wanted me too!_"_

"I'm too old . . ."

"I'll be the judge of that."

". . . and I can offer you absolutely nothing—no future, no life . . ."

"I don't care!"

"Well, I do."

There was a long silence. "So you're saying that you won't give us a chance on account of your bloody nobility. Do you _ever_ do anything for yourself, Remus? Ever?"

He didn't reply.

"Don't you . . . don't you feel the same way about me?" Her voice had dropped nearly to a whisper. "Do you fancy someone else? Is that it?"

"No," he said in a strangled tone. "Never!"

"Then what _do _you want, Remus?"

A long, pregnant pause.

"You should leave," said Remus tonelessly.

"Don't," she croaked out. "Don't do this."

"You should leave now, before . . . before . . . I'm sorry, Tonks."

"Remus . . ."

"Just go!" he cried hoarsely, and the approaching footsteps told me of her stumbling retreat. She paused when she rounded the corner and saw us; I barely recognized Tonks—her hair was a mousy brown, and her cheeks were tear-streaked from crying. She shot me an anguished look before turning to run to the staircase, completely ignoring Sirius.

For a moment I was frozen against the wall. Then Sirius spoke, shattering the silence. "Damn you, Remus," he said softly, staring at the empty stretch of wall across the corridor. "Can't you see she's in _love_ with you?"

* * *

Confusion reigned in the morning; there were seven trunks to be packed and loaded, and twice that many people to feed. Mrs. Weasley was running around like a madwoman, preparing food, giving orders, and shrieking at Fred and George who had decided they were above walking and were apparating from floor to floor in search of George's missing sock.

Tonks had given me one of her old school trunks. It was brown and didn't look very big; but I could fit three times as many things in it as I would a normal, non-magical trunk. No matter whether the trunk was stuffed full or completely empty, it always weighed the same—another magical feature I was grateful of. I'd had quite a lot of things to pack; Mrs. Weasley had taken me shopping a few days before for school robes and supplies. Everything I owned was inside this one, magically enhanced piece of luggage. The front was engraved with the initials _NAT, _which stood for Nymphadora Anne Tonks. She'd mentioned getting the trunk engraved with my initials, but I liked it how it was.

As I lugged my trunk downstairs, I worried about Tonks. I hadn't seen her since she'd left last night. She was supposed to be our Auror escort to Hogwarts, but when I entered the kitchen, it was Kingsley Shacklebolt instead who sat at the table, enjoying some of Mrs. Weasley's omelets and talking to Remus.

"Where's Tonks?"

"She asked me to fill in," said Shacklebolt. "But she's upstairs right now."

I dashed for the door, skidding to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Tonks was descending, lugging a large trunk behind her. "Morning Libby," she said flatly, and her eyes were dull.

I stepped aside as she passed, then followed her back to the kitchen. "Where are you going?"

"I'm moving back to my flat," she said.

Mrs. Weasley gasped. "But why? Surely it isn't safe!"

"I'll have Bill put up some more wards if necessary, but I'm an Auror. I can take care of myself."

"There's plenty of room here, though!"

"I think it's best if I go," said Tonks, not meeting anyone's eyes as she turned to go. Over in the corner, Remus looked positively miserable as he slouched lower in his chair.

"I'll walk you out," I said, and followed her down the dingy hall to the front step. We paused at the door.

"Why are you leaving?"

"You know why," she said, staring at her hands. "You heard last night."

"Don't go," I pleaded.

"I'm sorry," she said, though I wasn't sure why she was apologizing to me.

"You can't give up this easily!" I cried desperately. But the hopelessness in her eyes told me that she already had.

"Bye, Libby." I stood there numbly as she gave me a quick hug. "I'm going to miss you terribly."

And then she was gone, apparating away before I stop her.

It had all gone terribly wrong—and we hauled our trunks out to the street, at least an hour behind schedule, I scuffed my feet, feeling more depressed than I'd ever felt before.

"Aww, why are you looking so down?" said Fred, coming over to me.

"Libs here needs a good Cheering Charm," said George, but I shook my head.

"I'm fine."

By my side, Sirius, disguised as Padfoot, whined, and I reached down to scratch his shaggy head.

"Whatever's wrong, you'll forget all about it during the ride on the Knight Bus," muttered Hermione. She didn't look pleased at all, and I wondered why.

"What's the Knight Bus . . ." I began, but at that moment, Shacklebolt stuck out his wand and there was a loud BANG. I jumped back with a small cry—and then, out of thin air, there appeared a large three story bus, violently purple in colour.

I must have been gaping, because Fred snorted in laughter. "Pull your chin off the ground, Libby. It's just a bus."

A magical bus. One that was three stories high, and that appeared out of nowhere, skidding to a halt just inches from our pile of trunks.

I eyed it warily, but Hermione just sighed. "It's safe," she said. "Come on."

The inside was larger than I'd anticipated, but I was beginning to expect this of anything magical. We were greeted by a funny little man who introduced himself at Stan Shuntpike. Shacklebolt handed over a pile of coins for our fare, and with a jerk, the bus was off.

It was much worse than Flooing, or even Apparation.

When the bus finally jerked to a halt in front of the Hogwarts gates, I stumbled out and promptly emptied my stomach on the lawn. Not that it mattered; I already had some of poor Madame March's lunch on my robes anyway. Kingsley waited for me to finish, then offered kindly to _Scourgify _my robes, an offer that I readily accepted. Red-faced, I followed Ron and Harry down the road to the castle, dragging my trunk behind me.

"Don't worry," said Ginny, coming up beside me. "The Knight Bus does that to people."

"Magical transportation is _so_ much worse than anything we have in the Muggle world," I muttered.

"But faster," said Ginny reasonably. "Don't get me wrong, I've never been on an air-plate or anything."

"Aeroplane," I corrected, grinning.

Hogwarts was just as impressive on the second visit—especially with the snowcapped mountains as a backdrop. The snow was beginning to soak through my trainers, but I didn't care. The bright sunshine was beginning to lift my spirits. As we climbed the front steps to the castle, Fred and George were deep in conversation and I kept hearing the words "frog's eggs" and "ear wax" and "extract of salmon"; I could only guess that they were planning yet another of their inventions, even though George had told me that Umbridge had banned all of their products months ago. Ginny was fretting to Hermione about someone named Michael Corner and how he was going to be ticked that she hadn't owled him all break long. Ron was talking to Harry about Quidditch, though Harry didn't look very happy. I remembered that he and the twins had a lifelong ban from Umbridge.

"Who's Michael Corner?" I asked, sidling up to Ginny and switching the handle of my trunk to the other hand.

"Just the git who's taking advantage of Ginny," said Ron darkly, over his shoulder.

"It's none of your bloody business who I see," snapped Ginny threateningly.

"Libby," began Hermione hastily—perhaps she really didn't want to see this turn into an all-out fight—"are you going to be Sorted when you get to the castle?"

I'd forgotten all about it. Now the butterflies returned as I stared up at the castle looming above me. "Dunno . . . I guess they'll have to Sort me, huh? They can't just throw me in a random house."

"You'd better be in Gryffindor," said Ginny fiercely, and several others agreeing with her.

I blushed happily. "Well, there's no way to tell for sure . . ." Of course I wanted to be Sorted into a House where I knew everyone. Ron, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and the Twins could make my adaptation to Hogwarts much, _much _less painful. On the other hand, after the blatant animosity I'd seen displayed in that hallway last term between the Gryffindors and Slytherins, I was pretty positive that I'd rather be in a more neutral House. I hated conflict. Period.

We dragged our trunks up the front steps, through the massive oak doors, and into the Entrance Hall.

"Gryffindor is this way," said Hermione, pointing uncertainly up the stairs. "So is the Headmaster's office, though, so you might as well come with us. I'm sure Dumbledore will want to be talking to you."

"And leave my trunk here?" I said, eying the trunk dispassionately.

"No, no . . ." She looked amused. "We're at Hogwarts now, so we can use magic, remember"

I didn't mention that I'd been using magic all break long—both in and out of 'class.'

"_Wingardium leviosa_," said Hermione, and her trunk lifted off the ground and began gently floating up the stairs. I followed suit, but my trunk seemed unwilling to cooperate. I got it up the first stairway without too many problems, but on the second stairway, the trunk kept bumping the edges of the steps and when I was nearly at the top, my spell failed and my trunk went bouncing back down the stairs, just barely missing Fred and George who had to scramble to get out of the way.

Red-faced and humiliated I marched to the top of the stairs before saying loudly, "_Accio_ trunk!"

My trunk twitched. Fred and George positively howled with laughter.

"ACCIO TRUNK!"

This time, the trunk moved. It barreled up the stairways and hit me right in the stomach, propelling me backwards. I might have been impaled on one of the knights' spears had not Ron and Harry interfered. Ron dove for my trunk and Harry intercepted me. I sprawled on the stone floor, completely winded.

To their credit, Fred and George had stopped laughing. They bounded up the stairs and joined the other Gryffindors surrounding me. "Libby! Are you alright?"

I nodded, still unable to speak. Embarrassed wasn't a strong enough adjective for the way I felt. Perhaps mortified.

Ron held out a hand and helped me up. Ginny was tittering, now that she was sure I wasn't hurt, and I sent her a dark look. "If any of you _ever_ relate that story to _anyone_," I said, leaving the threat unfinished.

"Let me get your trunk," said Hermione kindly, and I had no choice but to accept her help.

But just around the next corner, we nearly ran smack into Minerva McGonagall who looked as if she'd been running herself ragged all day long. "Elizabeth—just the person I was looking for," she said, bypassing all the customary greetings. "You have your trunk? Excellent; I need to see you in my office right away."

"But what about Dumbledore?" I began.

"Important business," she said stiffly. "Otherwise he'd have been the first to welcome you to Hogwarts."

Hermione subtly released my trunk from her spell, and I shot her a grateful look.

"Well, no time for delays, Elizabeth, so follow me."

She didn't wait for me; instead she began at once to stride quickly down the hall, but suddenly she stopped and turned again. "I hope you have not become too accustomed to being in a safe environment where it's acceptable to say whatever comes to mind," said McGonagall, and to my relief, she was addressing the entire group. "But here at Hogwarts, things are not as they used to be. There are both Ministry and Death Eater spies everywhere. If you let your guard slip for a single second, the consequences could be dire indeed."

"What exactly are you saying, Professor?" asked Hermione timidly.

"My point is that Libby has been completely honest with you over Christmas Holidays, but now that she is at Hogwarts, she will be expected to maintain the persona the Ministry tried to create when Edgecombe modified her memory. From now on, Libby Rivera doesn't exist."

"Elizabeth Cree," I said, testing the name. I hated it, really. I'd always loved my last name—Rivera. It slipped off my tongue so easily. Cree was boring and meaningless.

"Remember what I've told you," said McGonagall before turning and stalking off again. I pointed my wand at the trunk and said determinedly, "_Wingardium leviosa."_

This time, the spell worked, but I had to focus all of my concentration on maintaining the flow of magic as—a hard feat while following McGonagall through two corridors and down a stairway. But we hadn't far to go—her office was right around the corner, and when we were safely inside, I let the spell go with a sigh of relief.

Minerva McGonagall eyed me with an unreadable expression. "Spells are still giving you trouble." It wasn't really a question, but I nodded anyway.

She sat down behind her desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. "I am the Deputy Headmistress," she announced suddenly, and I jumped a little. "Which is why I will be taking over the formalities tonight as Dumbledore is unable to at the moment. Now, your classes are Charms, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. You will need to add another class before your OWL's next year."

"Hermione Granger offered to help me catch up in one of the electives—Ancient Runes or Arithmancy," I volunteered.

She frowned slightly, and I unconsciously sank lower in the chair I'd positioned myself in. "There are other classes as well," she said. "Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies are the other options, all of which would be much easier to get caught up in. In the case of Muggle Studies, you wouldn't have to study at all, not with your Muggle background. I know it seems a bit soon to be thinking of a career, but if you would like some more information on what classes you'll need for various career options, I have some pamphlets I can give you."

"Can I think about it?"

"You may, though I would recommend making your decision soon. Unfortunately, Miss Rivera, you may be under the impression that the last four months have been the most difficult ones, scholastic-wise, but I feel the need to inform you of the truth—that the hard part is just beginning."

I felt my stomach sinking.

"Now, there's the business of the Sorting."

I sat up straighter in my chair. Finally!

"Professor Dumbledore has allowed me to borrow the Sorting Hat. The Sorting is a simple procedure; the Hat will look into your mind and decide which House you are best suited for. Are you ready?"

I nodded. This was it. The big moment I'd been looking forward to for so long. She pulled the Hat from under her desk, and immediately a gaping slit appeared in the shape of a mouth. "Well, well, Minerva, who've you got here?"

"Just a late bloomer," said McGonagall irritably. She plopped the hat down on my head, and instantly the light grew dimmer as the brim landed on my nose, completely covering my eyes.

There was a long silence, and I had a panicked moment of fear that the Sorting Hat had looked into my mind and found absolutely _nothing . . ._ but then, there came the nasally voice, echoing inside my mind. _Well. This is interesting. Very interesting._

_What? What do you see?_ I thought, desperately curious and anxious all at the same time.

_You are no squib—but you have not always been a witch either . . ._

_Tell me something I already know,_ I thought irritably. _Just Sort me already._

_Oh, ho, not quite yet,_ said the Hat. _I'm not near done with your mind. You've been Obliviated before! But I can see why it didn't work; that was very clever . . . Oh._

_WHAT?_

_Your bloodline is a mystery to you. _

_And?_ I pressed.

_But I have Sorted others of your blood before._

A fierce, unrepressed hope began to burn inside my chest. _You _do?_ Then tell me who my parents are!_

But its reply shattered all my hopes. _No. That's a mystery you must work out for yourself. But Sorting you may be hard—very hard . . ._

_Why?_

_Because your ancestors have at one time or another been in all of the Houses. Usually all from your family go to one House, but exceptions happen—and you are one of these exceptions. _

_What House do they lean to? _I asked, desperately fishing for a clue—anything to help me on my search.

_That is not my place to tell you either,_ the Hat sighed. _All these rules and stipulations and lines I mustn't cross—you'd think a Hat's job would be easier than this._

_And you're going to Sort me . . . when, again?_

_Fiesty little thing, aren't you? _the Hat replied sarcastically. _Fine. Give me a second to dig around a bit deeper._

I let him explore my mind. What did I have to keep from a _hat_ anyway? I'd expected a weird sensation while it poked and prodded its way through my memories, but I felt not a thing.

_Definitely not Ravenclaw. _

I choked back a laugh. _No, really?_

_You are intelligent, but you do not love knowledge as they do. I think that you would not do well in Slytherin either, because although you have ambitions, you are not so committed to them that you'd be willing to do anything to reach your goals._

_So Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, then,_ I said, holding my breath anxiously. The Hat seemed to be having a rather hard time narrowing it between the two, so I decided to help. _I'm not very brave,_ I began, but the Hat laughed.

_Bravery, courage, guts—no one ever stands up and says, I feel brave today! No, true courage comes in crisis when you are able to do what you have to even when fear is seeping through your body. You have courage—but you also have loyalty—you would never leave your friends when they needed you . . ._

_I know,_ I whined. _Just pick already. _

But I'd already chosen where I wanted to go. And the Hat knew it. _Well, I won't argue—you'll do well there,_ he sighed. _It was nice talking to you, though. These long school years are tediously long and boring. _

_Pleasure was mine,_ I said, rolling my eyes. _I'll have to drop by and visit sometime._

The Hat had had enough of me. It opened its jagged mouth and shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

**A/N: **Finally an update! Please review. This means you, Zap. And you, myladyathena. :-D


	20. Losses

The prefect who escorted me to the Hufflepuff Common Room was a broad-shouldered boy with thick blond hair. "Ernie MacMillian," he said, puffing out his chest and holding out a hand.

I shook it. "Libby Ri . . . Cree," I said, cursing my carelessness. Old habits died hard.

"I'm a fifth year," he said. "You?" I noticed that on his black school robes, there was a yellow patch over his heart, featuring a coat of arms and a badger with the word 'Hufflepuff.' Glancing down at my own robes, I was surprised to find that a similar patch had appeared on my them.

"Fourth," I said happily. I had done it—finally, I was officially a Hogwarts student. I grinned widely and took a few hurried steps to catch up with Ernie's long legs.

"Well, welcome to Hufflepuff," said Ernie pleasantly. "Are you a transfer student?"

McGonagall had said practically nothing to him once he'd arrived at her office. In fact, she'd shooed us out so quickly that I'd nearly forgotten about my trunk.

"Never mind the trunk. The House Elves will attend to it," she'd assured me before shutting the door in our faces.

"No," I said, in response to Ernie's question. "I've had a private tutor for the past five months, and before then I went to Muggle schools."

He looked curious, but was too polite to ask why, so I continued. "My mum was a Muggle, my dad was a Wizard. They split up before I was born, and when Mum discovered I was magical, she decided not to send me to Hogwarts," I said quickly. "I didn't find out I was a Witch until she died, last August."

"I'm sorry," said Ernie sincerely, putting a hand on my shoulder. "That must have been hard on you."

I was touched by his evident concern. "Thanks."

"But not knowing you're a witch? That's horrible!"

"You have no idea," I mumbled. He didn't, really. A new topic was in order. "So where are the Hufflepuff rooms anyway?"

"Oh, just down this stairway and round a bend," said Ernie, brightening. "You'll see for yourself in a minute. It's not hard to find."

"Is it down in the dungeons?"

"Oh, no," said Ernie. "I mean, it's below the ground level of the school, but it's not even close to those prison cells the Slytherins live in. Hufflepuff's miles away from Slytherin."

I was relieved to hear that.

"So," he started, "you say you just found out you were magical five months ago. If that's the case—if you don't mind my asking—how are you able to come to school now? Five months isn't very much time to get caught up."

"I had a good tutor," I said. Clearly Ernie wasn't going to let the topic of my past go until his curiosity was satisfied, so I continued. "Remus Lupin."

"Professor Lupin taught you?" Ernie's face was the picture of astonishment. "He taught here a few years back. He's one of the best teachers I've ever had—no wonder you caught up so quickly. Still, three and a half years in five months? It's a wonder you weren't put in Ravenclaw."

"I hate studying," I said simply. "And besides, I wanted to be in Hufflepuff."

Ernie's eyes narrowed. "You _wanted_ to be put here?"

"Sure," I said, wondering at his astonishment. "My guardian—Nymphadora Tonks, an Auror—was in this House. She said a lot of good things about it."

And Remus had stubbornly insisted that Gryffindor topped all other Houses. I fervently hoped he wouldn't be upset when he found out I was in Hufflepuff—on the other hand, maybe the news would cheer Tonks. My spirits lifted a little.

"That's a first," muttered Ernie under his breath. "Oh, the kitchen's that direction."

He pointed down a corridor, and we continued down another tunnel-like hallway in the opposite direction.

"This is it."

We'd arrived at a large still-life painting of a golden cup of wine and a spread of bread and fruit, shaped in a perfect circle. It was at the end of an earthy-smelling tunnel, brightly lit with torches and adorned portraits of fat little men and ladies who waved and called out greetings to both of us.

"Password, please," a cheerful woman's voice said, echoing slightly in the corridor.

"Fidelity," said Ernie, and the huge yellow circle of a painting swung inward.

The Common Room smelled of cinnamon and fresh earth, but it wasn't at all an unpleasant aroma. In fact, I felt instantly at home in the cozy room, with low fires burning in three fireplaces, and big round chairs scattered here and there. On one wall stood a floor-to-ceiling mirror, nearly four feet wide. All about us, students were lounging in the beanbags or studying at the round tables. Two doors stood at either end of the room, large, round, yellow doors, and I noticed quickly that only girls were emerging and disappearing through the one on the right, and likewise, only boys from the one on the left. Those must lead to the dormitories.

But suddenly, my attention was captured again as Ernie clapped his hands loudly. "Listen up, everyone. We've got a new Hufflepuff. This is Libby Cree."

The healthy buzz of conversation immediately lowered to a tumultuous whispering. Then, four people broke free of the crowd and hurried over to me. "Hullo! I'm Hannah," said a short girl with long blondish hair. "Fifth year prefect."

"Weston Summers," said the tall boy with red hair and mischievous eyes. "Sixth year."

"I'm the Head Girl," said the brown-haired girl with a round face and kind smile. "Patricia Stimpson."

"Where's Hugh and Eleanor?" said Ernie, frowning.

"Aren't back from hols yet," said Patricia.

"They're the other prefects," explained Hannah, smiling at me. "What year are you?"

"Fourth," I said, and she looked as if she was going to ask more questions, so I quickly continued. "Where will I be sleeping?"

"The house-elves will put a bed in the fourth-year dormitory for you, and I'm pretty sure your trunk is already there," replied Patricia kindly. "It's through that door over there, second on the left. But first we have to officially swear you into the Hufflepuff House."

Confusion must have been written all over my face, because she quickly explained. "Every year the new students have to repeat a series of vows to become an official Hufflepuff. It's sort of our initiation."

"Alright."

"Repeat after me: I solemnly promise to be kind to not only my friends, but my enemies as well, to help those in need and to comfort those who are broken, to put my best effort into everything I do, to be just and fair, and to stand behind my Housemates always."

I repeated the oath solemnly, and grinned like an idiot when they all broke into smiles and welcomed me officially with enthusiastic hugs, back-slaps, and handshakes.

"Come on," said Hannah warmly. "I'll show you to your dorm."

* * *

Dinner was at six. I couldn't remember how I'd gotten to the Hufflepuff Common Room from the Entrance Hall, so Stella Summerby, a nice fourth year who I'd be sharing a dorm with, offered to show me the way. Her only fault was that she never shut up.

"When I first got here it took me practically months to find my way around," she chatted as we climbed another staircase. "But the second years took us firsties under their wings and showed us around for the first week." She frowned. "You're going to have quite a time getting to your classes, aren't you?"

"I've been here before," I said. "But only once, and it wasn't long enough to learn the entire castle."

"I'll help you," said Stella cheerfully, tossing her mane of chestnut-colored hair. She reminded me of a pixie—short and thin, with large brown eyes. "What are your classes?"

I told her. "So few?" she remarked.

"I have to pick up an elective," I explained. "Ancient Runes or Divination or something. I haven't decided yet, but Hermione's promised to help me catch up in whichever class I pick."

Stella frowned. "Hermione…?"

"Granger," I said. "She's a Gryffindor fifth year and she's super smart."

But Stella only latched on to the word "Gryffindor." "Oooh," she breathed, "did you know that Harry Potter is only a year ahead of us? Hannah and Ernie even have classes with him!"

I hid my smile. "Really, now?"

"Yeah! He's a Seeker on the Gryffindor team—well he was, until Umbridge kicked him off the team. He's the reason we've never been able to beat them at Quidditch," she babbled. "I'm the Seeker for Hufflepuff and I'm not bad—I certainly beat that Cho girl from Ravenclaw last game, but up against Harry Potter? Not a chance in the world."

"You're the Seeker?" I said, my interest growing.

"Weston made me the Seeker—he's our Quidditch Captain and a chaser—after tryouts this year," she said. "I'm light and decent at a broom. Not like those others bimbos who tried to get on the team. You should have seen the spectacular collision Owen Cauldwell had with the Quidditch hoop. I was laughing for days. Of course, the team hasn't been the same since Cedric . . ." Stella trailed off.

"Cedric?" I pressed curiously (the name sounded vaguely familiar), but she shook her head.

"I'll just end up bursting into tears," she told me, staring in the opposite direction. "Where was I, anyway? Oh, yes, Harry Potter . . ."

It seemed like a safer topic, anyway.

"He even has a scar on his forehead where You-Know-Who hit him with the curse. Did you hear the rumors that You-Know-Who is back?"

Her voice had dropped to a whisper. Suddenly, I didn't feel so good anymore. "Yeah," I said, looking away. "I did."

"D'you reckon they're true?" asked Stella, her eyes wide. "I mean, Dumbledore's siding with Harry, but the entire Ministry says that they're both liars, and most of us don't know what to believe."

"I'd reckon that Harry's telling the truth," I said. I'd heard about Voldemort's return from Tonks, who said Harry'd been there, but I hadn't heard much of the conflict between Harry and the Ministry, mostly because of my lack of interest in the _Daily Prophet_. It all made loads of sense after seeing the lengths the Ministry had gone to in making sure I was properly Obliviated.

"You think?"

"Just look around," I said, slightly annoyed at her lack of trust. She was a Hufflepuff; we were supposed to stand for justice—and Harry certainly wasn't being treated very fairly right now. "A couple months Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban. Harry himself was attacked by a Dementor. There've been unexplained deaths, some that the Ministry has covered up, some that they've haven't been able to hide from the general public. Everything points to the fact that You-Know-Who's back."

By the look on her face, I'd gone too far. Stella looked absolutely terrified. Voldemort's eminent return was nothing to me, not after living for months at the Order Headquarters, but to the sheltered students of Hogwarts, it was much more. The end of life as they knew it. The beginning of a war; a war where the casualties would be their own parents and siblings and friends.

The thought struck me that I had no family left to lose.

Suddenly the volume of voices around me skyrocketed, and I realised we'd reached the Great Hall. Four long tables stretched from where I stood to the front of the room. A high table overlooked the four.

"That's where the professors sit," said Stella, looking relieved to be back on a safe topic. "We sit over there."

She led me over to a table in the middle, already half-full of students digging into a spread of food unlike any I'd ever seen before. Roast, potatoes, corn, bread, chicken wings, puddings, drinks—I was overwhelmed.

Stella latched onto my arm. "Come sit with me, I'll introduce you to my friends."

She pulled me over to a section of the table already full of people and tapped two boys' shoulders. "Budge over."

"Ah, Stella," said the stocky, dark-haired boy smoothly. "You're back, and definitely no worse for the Christmas season. Have a nice break?"

"Dreadful without you," she said, rolling her eyes. "Libby, meet Charles Cadwallader."

"Hey there," said Charles, winking at me.

"Charles here is a fourth year, our class," said Stella, climbing onto the bench and wasting no time in loading her plate. I followed her example. "He's a Chaser for Hufflepuff."

"Oh," I said. Tonks had tried to educate me about Quidditch, but I couldn't for the life of me remember what a Chaser did.

"And that bloke on the left who's stuffing his face is Justin Finch-Fetchley . . ."

Justin, a curly-haired boy wearing thin wire glasses, shot her a dirty look.

"And across the table is Zacharias Smith, who's in our class, and Megan Jones, who's a year above."

Smith scowled darkly, for which he received a smack from the auburn-haired girl next to him. "Be nice," said Megan Jones, before smiling encouragingly at me. "Don't mind Zach. He always looks as if he's got something stuck up his . . ."

"Hem hem."

I twisted around in my seat; standing directly behind me was someone I unfortunately recognized. The short, toad-faced woman was wearing a set of plaid _pink—_PINK—robes, and she had a wide smile pasted on her face. "Elizabeth Cree?"

Oh, god, no. It was the same woman who had come to Tonks's house the day the Ministry came to check up on the progress of my schooling back in October. The one who was friends with Margaret Edgecombe. The one who had been trying to ask me harder and harder questions so that Remus would ultimately be humiliated as a tutor. I hadn't made the connection at the time.

I pasted what hopefully looked like a politely interested, unbiased look on my face. "Yes?"

"I'm Dolores Umbridge," said the woman in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I wanted to be the first to welcome you to Hogwarts, dear."

_Too late. Professor McGonagall beat you to it._

I widened my eyes innocently. "That's very kind of you," I returned.

"How did the rest of your time with Nymphadora Tonks go?" she asked, pretending she cared.

"Fine," I said shortly. She was looking for me to make a mistake. To slip up and say something about Tonks or Remus that would incriminate them, or even better, to say something incongruent with the false memories they'd planted in my mind, proving that someone had informed me of my true identity.

"And your tutor? Did you have any . . . problems?"

"No, none at all. Re—Mr. Lupin did a marvelous job. I feel very prepared to begin school," I said cautiously.

She narrowed her eyes. "I know you were with Tonks, but when the Ministry stopped by to make a second evaluation of your educational progress, the apartment was deserted."

Now I knew something was up. After the first evaluation, I had learned from Tonks that Ameila Bones had assured her that were there to be a second Ministry evaluation, we would know at least a week in advance.

"Tonks took me to visit her parents," I said truthfully, hoping Umbridge might believe we were there for longer than just one evening.

"We came several times," she said.

"It probably would have been best to call first," I replied. "I did some of my tutoring at Mr. Lupin's house. Tonks tried to avoid her apartment as much as possible for safety reasons—but I'm sure you understand why."

"Safety reasons?"

"Yes," I said, lowering my voice. Unconsciously, Stella and her friends leaned in a little. They were all listening in intently. "I'm sure you know that one of the escapees from Azkaban is a distant relation. Of course she'd be worried about an ex-Death Eater coming back to target her and her immediate family."

"As frightening as that sounds, dear, I'm sure she was exaggerating the danger. The Ministry has every Auror available rounding up the prisoners, as Tonks should know. You have nothing to fear."

Right.

"I know," I said, lowering my eyes, and inserting a wavering note into my next words. "It's just that it's been over two months since the breakout, and no one has been caught yet. I wonder . . . what I mean to say is, I know that the Ministry is doing its best and all, but . . ."

Let her think that my distrust of the Ministry came because of their inability to locate the rogue Death Eaters. I knew exactly where Dolohov, Mulciber, the Lestranges and the rest were—at Voldemort's side. If the Ministry wasn't so blind, they could actually be doing some good right about now.

Umbridge's face turned purple and I thought for sure her beady little eyes were going to pop right out of her head. "Does your guardian feel the same way you do?" she managed to say through gritted teeth.

I shook my head violently. "Oh, no, Professor. She's positive that any day now they'll all be back behind bars, but she's just concerned about being targeted because of her relations."

"I see." She eyed me for a moment more, then said, "As the Ministry was unable to monitor your tutoring progress during its final months, be assured, Ms. Cree, that if we find that you are unable to keep up scholastically, we reserve the right to pull you from the program."

I met her eyes boldly. "Fair enough." Inside, I was seething.

"Then we understand each other," said Umbridge sweetly.

"Perfectly," I growled once she'd turned and flounced away towards the High Table.

I turned back to Stella and her friends. They were all staring at me. Charles let out a low whistle. "Tough luck, Cree," he said, shaking his head. "Two hours at Hogwarts and you're already on her bad list."

I snorted. "She's got a bad list? Here I was thinking she just hated everyone in general."

"She doesn't hate the Slytherins," said Megan darkly.

"Is your guardian really related to some of the Death Eaters who escaped?" asked Stella, her eyes wide.

"That's just what she told Umbridge, dummy," said Zacharias.

"She could have been lying," Justin pointed out, and they all turned to look at me.

"Tonks is related to Bellatrix Lestrange," I said.

"I saw her picture," said Megan with a shiver. "She's the creepiest one of all."

"You're not the only one, you know," said Charles, lowering his voice. "See that kid down there? The blonde one."

I followed his gaze and saw a chunky second year boy sitting with a group of younger students.

"That's Kevin Whitby," said Charles. "His second cousin is Thorton Travers, one of the escapees from Azkaban. I heard that Travers murdered an entire family before being caught by Aurors."

Why wasn't I surprised? Oh yes, Death Eaters _did_ that sort of thing _all the time._ Why didn't these people get the seriousness of the situation?

"Tonks. Such an odd name," commented Megan, who's attention had been drawn back to me.

"Short for Nymphadora Tonks," I said.

"And she's your . . ."

"Guardian." Oh, boy, here it came, the questions. If I had to tell one more person about my parents' deaths today, I thought I might just lose the front I'd worked so hard to maintain . . .

But then, I was saved by a squeal. Not an ordinary squeal, of course, because this one came from a petite, red-haired Gryffindor who'd just noticed my presence in the Great Hall.

"Libby!" cried Ginny, hurrying over to where I was sitting. "Oh, hey, Stella, Justin."

The aforementioned two nodded to her, but her attention was still on me. "How're you liking it so far? Isn't the food marvelous?"

"Hey, Ginny," I said, smiling widely.

"Budge over, Justin," she instructed the boy on my right before plopping down in his now unoccupied seat. "So what did Umbridge say? I saw her talking to you, the old hag—you can bet anything she's going to make your life miserable here."

"That's for sure," I muttered.

"How'd things with McGonagall go?" she asked brightly. "Did you see Dumbledore yet? Did you get sorted?"

Seriously, now. How could she have missed the great yellow patch on my new robes?

There was a snort behind us; I looked up to see Ron Weasley, being trailed closely by Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. "Seriously Ginny, how blind are you? She's sitting at the _Hufflepuff_ table."

"Oh. Oh!" exclaimed Ginny, eyes widening. "Right. Congrats!"

She looked disappointed, all the same.

I looked past Ginny. "Hiya, Ron, Hermione. Harry."

Hermione waved cheerily, and Harry nodded his acknowledgement. Stella Summerby's eyes bulged.

"Hufflepuff, then?" said Hermione, disappointed reflected in her eyes. "It'll be harder to study together, but we can always use the library, I suppose . . ."

"At least it wasn't Slytherin," said Ron.

"But we all knew there was no chance of _that_ happening," said Ginny, grinning. "Well, I'd better get Ron to the food before he faints of low blood sugar. Catch you later, OK? I'm sure we'll have some classes together. I'll save you a seat!"

"Bye," I said, a little dazed.

The second they were gone, Stella pounced. "You know Harry Potter?" she hissed at me.

"Uh, yeah, sort of," I said. "I met him over break. Briefly." That was stretching the truth a little.

"And you let me rattle on and on without saying anything? What's he like?"

"Human," muttered Zacharias.

He struck me as the sort who was never in a good mood.

"My dad says he's lying," said Charles. "Told me to stay away from him."

"Libby figures Harry's telling the truth," said Stella.

"Of course he's telling the truth," snapped Justin rather harshly, and I looked at him, surprised. "Why would he lie?"

"Cause he wants attention," said Zacharias, scowling, and Justin shot him a glare.

"And you call yourself a member of the . . ." he began before Zacharias silenced him with a look.

The food, of course, was delicious. I stuffed myself to the limit, for the most part just listening rather than participating in the conversation around me. Charles and Stella were arguing fiercely about which countries would make it to the World Cup this year, which was to be held in Zimbabwe. They argued like Ron and Hermione—simply for the sport, I noticed. I wondered if there might be something more between the two.

Zacharias listened, inserting his sarcastic comments once in a while. Megan looked bored—her eyes kept wandering over to the Ravenclaw table for some reason. Justin went back and forth from following the conversation to trying politely to include me. I appreciated the effort, but I still didn't feel comfortable enough around them to participate actively.

Once, I followed Megan's gaze over to the Ravenclaw. Immediately I noticed a flash of red hair among the more duller shades of brown, blonde, and black. Ginny Weasley was standing at the end of the table, conversing animatedly with a tall, good-looking bloke with sandy hair and prominent cheekbones. This must be Michael Corner, I guessed, and while watching the two interact, I noticed that while Ginny looked happy enough to see him again, the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Every so often she'd glance over to the Gryffindor table, as if in search of someone before quickly pulling herself back to her conversation with Michael.

At last, I pushed away my plate and excused myself. Stella looked up regretfully from her argument with Charles (Nimbus or Cannonball—brooms, I think), but I quickly motioned her to stay. "I'll be alright. I can find my way back fine."

When I reached the Entrance Hall, however, I found that I'd forgotten which downward staircase led to the Hufflepuff common room. Was it the one on the right, or on the left? I hadn't been paying that good attention. I stood there for a moment before deciding that it must be the one on the left, but as I began heading for it, quick footsteps behind me made me turn.

Justin Finch-Fetchley was there, looking as if he'd just run all the way from the far end of the Hufflepuff table. "Figured your memory wasn't as good as you first believed," he said, a small smile pulling at the edge of his mouth. "Need a guide? I can walk you back."

My cheeks burned. "I would have figured it out eventually," I mumbled, heading quickly for the stairway on the right. He followed me, his long legs matching my stride easily.

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

We walked on.

"Are you Muggle-born?"

The question caught me by surprise. "I don't know," I replied, then clapped my hand over my mouth. "I mean," I quickly amended, "my mother was a Muggle. My dad left when I was little. I'm not sure if he was magical or not."

"But you were raised Muggle," he said.

I nodded. "I attended . . ." Wait, I had to rack my brain again. Where had I grown up in my imaginary life? Ah, Norwich. "I went to public school in Norwich." He'd never recognize the name _John P. Stanton Elementary_, but I felt better now that I remembered it.

"Really?" Justin's eyes brightened. "I'm from Ispwich."

Brilliant. If he spent much time in Norwich, and started asking questions . . .

"My parents were going to send me to Eton College before I got my Hogwarts letter," said Justin.

Now that I'd heard of. "Really? No way."

"Yes way," said Justin. "They weren't too happy when I turned out to be a Wizard, but at least all the strange unexplainable events now had explanations."

"Accidental magic," I murmured.

"Did it happen a lot to you too?"

"No, just once," I replied slowly. My mind was a million miles away, reliving that day, so many months before. "All the windows in the house shattered."

"Wow. What happened to make you that upset?"

"My mum died," I said quietly. My dad too, but I wasn't allowed to say that. There were so many things I wasn't allowed to reveal. How could I ever make friends if all I could tell them were lies?

Justin was silent for a moment, and when I looked over at him, he looked troubled. "Are you alright?"

For once, no "I'm sorry," or "That must be hard." He'd actually asked about me.

"Better now," I said truthfully.

"Were you attending a different magical school before now?" said Justin gently.

"No; I didn't find out I was magical until after . . . until she told me on her death bed." God, this was so difficult.

I went through the tedious explanation of my latent magical powers and six months of intense tutoring, but it wasn't as bad as before. Justin was really interested, it seemed. Not just the curious-interested, either. The concerned sort of interested.

We reached the portrait hole just when I was finishing my story. "Remember the password?" he asked slyly. His light-hearted mood was back, and I was glad.

"Of course I do," I said, pretending to be offended, and we playfully argued all the way through the portrait hole and into the Hufflepuff Common Room. Justin motioned to some of the overstuffed chairs, and I sank down into one gratefully.

"What's that over there?" I asked, pointing at what looked to be an altar of sorts. No, not an alter—a memoriam, perhaps. I hadn't noticed it before. There were flowers of all varieties and candles burning under a large printed picture of a handsome boy who looked to be a few years older than Justin.

"Oh," said Justin, and his face fell. "That's Cedric Diggory." He lowered his voice respectfully. "He died last year. He was the Head Boy, as well as the captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and the Hogwarts Tri-Wizard Tournament Champion."

I stared at the picture of the boy who would never get a chance to live again. It was so unfair—he looked so young, so happy in the picture. "How did he die?" I whispered.

"You-Know-Who killed him," said Justin, not looking at me.

There were more losses besides my own. Already, there was a casualty here among Hogwarts' own students.

I think we talked a little more, but soon I told Justin that I was tired and headed down the tunnel-like corridor to my dormitory. My trunk was at the foot of my bed, and I quickly fished a pair of pajamas out and threw them on before curling up on my bed with a book. But I couldn't concentrate on reading. Cedric's face kept pressing into my mind, as well as my parents' faces and the faces of two people I'd never met but seen pictures of—a red-haired woman and a black-haired man—Harry's parents.

Eventually, Voldemort was going to take something from all of us. Every last one.

That night, for the first time a month, I had nightmares.

**A/N: **I swear, every Hufflepuff mentioned in this chapter is canon. Except for the two absent prefects. I know it's a LOT of OC's but I'm hoping that I've mixed the obscure ones with more prominent Hufflepuffs--Justin Finch-Fetchly, Ernie and Hannah, Zacharias, etc.


	21. Dumbledore's Army

I met Luna Lovegood on my very first day of Transfiguration.

Even with a hand-drawn map and a detailed class schedule, I was still running late to class, having ascended a stairway which suddenly began to rotate and stretch until it stopped on the fifth floor instead of the fourth. By the time I found my way back to the Transfiguration classroom, class had already begun, and all the empty seats had been taken—all but one near the front. I tried to step quietly, but every head turned anyway, and the whispering escalated. I slipped into the last empty seat next to a blonde girl with a Ravenclaw crest on her robes. I half expected McGonagall to take house points or assign me detention, but the woman didn't break her flow of lecture. In fact, I was absolutely sure she'd sent me a sympathetic glance before turning back to magic the next set of notes onto the board. I looked over at my seatmate, but she was not looking at me. Rather, she was staring at the ceiling, whispering indistinguishable words as she fingered her butterbeer cap necklace.

I looked up at the ceiling too. There was nothing there.

Nonplussed, I turned back to the front, realizing that I'd already missed a good part of the lecture. Panicked, I scrambled for a parchment and quill.

Finally, McGonagall told us to break up into pairs and practice the Revitalizing Charm on withered potted plants that appeared on our desks. I glanced over at my seatmate again, but she hadn't moved. I looked away, uncomfortable and unsure of what to do, but the moment I was about to attempt the charm alone, she took a breath, blinked, and smiled at me.

"Now the bilbats won't make everyone sleepy," said the girl. "Daddy taught me a charm to keep them away."

I frowned. "Bilbats?"

But the boy sitting in seat in front of me had heard the exchange. "Don't listen to her. Loony Lovegood doesn't know what she's talking about." He laughed too loudly, only quieting when McGonagall shot him a pointed look.

"That's not really your name, is it?" I said uncertainly once the boy had turned back to his own project.

"It's what everyone calls me," said the girl. She didn't seem to care. "You can call me whatever you want."

"But what's your name?"

She stared unblinkingly at the ceiling for a few moments, then said, "Luna."

"I'm Libby," I replied, unsure of what to think.

Luna turned back to study the withered plant. Then she closed her eyes and swirled her wand in the air. "Amplio folium."

To my amazement, the leaves instantly became greener and the branches perked up. "How did you do that?" I exclaimed. "That wasn't at all how McGonagall taught us!"

"It wasn't?" Luna looked confused, as if she really hadn't had a clue that she was doing anything differently than the teacher. "Daddy always told me to feel the magic. He says it's not about the technique—it's about letting the magic flow."

"But how?" I didn't dare to believe her. It just couldn't be that simple. Letting the magic flow? I wasn't sure I had magic _to_ let flow.

"I don't know." Again she looked puzzled, and I guessed she'd never before questioned her techniques.

So I took a breath and pointed my wand at the plant. Then, closing my eyes, I vaguely mimicked McGonagall's wand motion, but tried not to _try_ as I said the incantation.

Luna smiled at me when I opened my eyes. My plant looked better—not significantly better, but better all the same. Never before had I achieved any type of magic on the first try.

"You did fairly well," commented Luna. "But your wand movement is wrong. Just let your wand float with the magic."

After four or five tries, my plant looked bright and fresh again, and I had decided that I really didn't care if everyone else called Luna "Loony Lovegood"—she'd helped me more in twenty minutes than my last five months of tutoring.

* * *

Just "floating with the magic" worked for most of the simple spells, but I soon discovered that harder spells were not to be accomplished so easily. There was a certain amount of concentration that was required for accomplishing the more advanced spells that could not be substituted with "feeling the magic." But as I attended classes and struggled with spells, I tried my best to add some element of abandonment into my spell casting; my feeble attempts improved—not vastly, but enough to make Luna was my new best friend.

* * *

Friday afternoon had finally come, and I had never before been so happy to arrive at the weekend in one piece. Only two weeks had passed since I'd arrived at Hogwarts to stay for good, but it felt like I'd been here for months. I loved it—but at the same time, I sorely missed the coziness and warmth of Tonks's apartment and the friendliness and acceptance of Grimmauld Place. I comforted myself with the assurance that Easter Hols was just around the corner.

Hogwarts was much different than I'd imagined. For one, not all the students were as accepting as Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Zacharias Smith still regarded me warily when I attempted to greet him. Several of the girls in my dormitory were a bit cool, especially since I'd come during the middle of the school year, but Stella did her best to dispel the resentment. She'd attached herself to me at the hip from day one, and I assumed that before I'd come she hadn't been particularly close to any of the girls in our year, properly explaining her over-reactive enthusiasm at my arrival.

My first week of classes had been the most stressful of my entire life. I wasn't taking many classes—just Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, Potions, and Herbology, but Umbridge's threat still hung over my head. If I didn't do well, she'd know.

My class schedule was so confusing. Public secondary school wasn't nearly this complicated. I had Herbology on Mondays and Wednesdays, Potions on Tuesdays and Fridays, DADA on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Transfiguration on Mondays and Fridays, and Charms on Wednesdays and Thursdays. I carried a rough map that Stella and Justin had drawn and a class schedule on my body at all times. I was forever forgetting what I had on what day, and once already I'd done my Herbology homework, only to realize that I _didn't _have Herbology the next day, but Potions.

Snape had taken off house points when I didn't have my essay ready to turn in. Of course I'd blushed and cringed under the angry glances from my classmates, but I couldn't bring myself to be afraid of him. For one, he treated Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws vastly differently than Gryffindors. Slytherins were his personal favorites, of course—but he had no real reason to hate our Houses. So while he criticised and berated his way through the class, I never thought much of it. I decided to go with Tonks on this one—Snape wasn't as bad as everyone thought, but he sure worked to keep up his image.

I actually enjoyed Potions. No spells were required for that class, and I was good at following directions. It was becoming one of my easier classes; Transfiguration was still at the top of my "worst" list, but Charms was competing, sliding in close at second place. DADA was a piece of cake—though Umbridge was making that class as worthless as monopoly money and boring as shopping for office supplies.

Although I was glad the weekend had arrived, I was already listing the assignments I needed to complete in my head. It was while I was working on my Charms essay due that next week that Justin plopped down next to me in the Common Room. "Hey," he said.

"Hi," I returned wearily, laying down my quill

He leaned over and scanned my essay. "'Effects of Drying Charms on fourteen types of parchment.' Sounds fascinating."

"Oh yes," I said. "I'm enthralled."

He laughed, still reading over my essay.

"Don't," I said, flushing. "It's probably really bad."

"Looks fine to me," said Justin. "Tell me again why you passed up Ravenclaw to be in Hufflepuff?"

I looked down at my essay, suddenly angry. The one thing I'd never understood was why Hufflepuffs were so negative about themselves and their House. Since coming to Hogwarts, I understood a little better. The general consensus all around was that Hufflepuff was behind, in more ways than one. Teachers expected less of the Hufflepuffs in their classes, whether consciously or subconsciously. We were passed off as those who would never go far in life. It was the Ravenclaws and Slytherins who would rise to high positions, and the Gryffindors who would fight their way to the top, but the Hufflepuffs would never become anyone of importance. We'd never be Healers, Aurors, Law-defenders, researchers, professors . . . Pomona Sprout was a heroine in the eyes of her students. She was someone who'd risen above prejudices and expectations to become a master in her art. The Hufflepuffs were in awe of her, thinking she was one of a kind.

Except that she wasn't. Tonks had become an Auror straight out of school. Emmeline Vance was a Healer. Elphias Dodge worked for the Ministry in the Transportation Regulation Department. They'd all been Hufflepuffs in their day. Many of the first Order members—ones who had died—had been Hufflepuffs as well: Marlene McKinnon, Frank Longbottom, Gideon Prewett . . . Yes, yes. If you're wondering why I knew all this, I'll admit that Tonks and Remus had gone all out in their attempts to convince me that their respective Houses were better.

Justin was still waiting for my reply. "I hate schoolwork," I muttered, giving my standard, run-of-the-mill answer. "I'd never fit in with them."

My reply was honest enough, but I wondered if I too had succumbed to the prejudicial views. Maybe I'd do well in Ravenclaw if I only had a different point of view. Maybe there were other Hufflepuffs who would've done well in Ravenclaw. Lisa Turpin was a genius at Potions and Transfiguration—we all went to her with our homework questions. Andy Anchorman—another boy in my year—excelled in the harder classes like Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Stella was an excellent Seeker (just not good enough to best Harry Potter or Ginny Weasley, who, I'd learned, was Harry's replacement now that he was off the team), and Weston Summers was the best Chaser on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, perhaps in the whole school. We always beat Ravenclaw, and occasionally we beat Gryffindor. But it was Slytherin and their brutal techniques that we didn't stand a chance against.

Why was it that we'd been chosen for Hufflepuff? It wasn't because we didn't have skills or traits . . . but what was the common thread running through me, Stella, Lisa, Weston, Justin . . .?

"Libby?"

I realized that Justin was looking oddly at me. "Yeah, sorry," I said. "I'm a little preoccupied tonight. Nothing important."

"Oh," he said. He didn't look like he bought my answer. "I was wondering, Libby . . . I really would have told you sooner, but we had to make sure you were loyal."

I was completely confused. "Loyal?"

"Yeah. You know, not reporting to Umbridge or something."

"I would never . . ."I began angrily, but Justin stopped me.

"I know you never would, but the others wanted to be sure before we invited you to join."

"Join what?"

He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Ever heard of Dumbledore's Army?"

* * *

When Friday arrived—the date of the next DA meeting—I was still fuming. Why Ginny or Hermione—hell, even the twins—hadn't told me about their super-secret defense meetings was beyond me. I felt betrayed.

I shared a few of my feelings with Justin and Hannah as we climbed the stairway to the seventh floor. The Room of Requirement, they'd said our meeting place was called.

"Oh, don't be upset," said Hannah, trying to smooth things over in typical Hufflepuff style. "Every time we bring someone new in, there has to be a general consensus. We can't be too careful these days."

We finally reached the seventh floor, and I watched in amazement as Hannah paced back and forth in front of an empty wall. My eyes widened as the door slowly appeared.

"Cool, huh?" said Justin. "Back home, my family wouldn't believe half the stuff that goes on around here. My mum and dad still refuse to believe that I can do magic, but I'm nearly seventeen now, so it won't be long before I can turn our tea table into a golden retriever or something. Wouldn't my mum love that."

Laughing, I followed him into the Room of Requirement. About ten students were already there, gathered at the end. Fred and George immediately spotted me and bounded over. "You made it!"

"No help from you lot," I grumbled. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We wanted to, Lib," said George. "We really did!"

"But Hermione threatened to hex our bits off is we did," said Fred, shuddering.

"Not that we don't think we could take her," put in George quickly.

"But she's a real force to be reckoned with—"

"Libby," exclaimed Ginny, appearing at my side. Justin looked a little disgruntled upon discovering that I seemed to know all the Weasleys at Hogwarts. "I would have told you, honest," she continued, studying my face anxiously. "But . . ."

"I know, I know," I said. "Hermione."

She nodded vigorously. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," I sighed. "But I'm going to kill Hermione."

"Hey, Libby," said Harry, as we approached the other students. He nodded at me. "Welcome to the D.A."

"I named it," Ginny said proudly. "Stands for Dumbledore's Army."

"We've already been over that," said Justin, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

What was wrong with him? I looked for Hermione, but she was over in the corner, her nose submerged in a heavy volume. Harry had ventured over to that corner and was talking earnestly as Hermione responded with vague nods and one-word answers. I would've marched up to her and told her what I thought, but I didn't want to interrupt.

Fred spoke again. "Hogsmeade is next weekend. Are you going, Lib?"

I brightened. "Really? Seriously? Of course I'll go. Rem—Professor Lupin and Tonks told me all about it."

"Just make sure you've got a permission slip," said George.

I made a mental note to owl Tonks about the permission slip and to include an upbeat letter. My last letter, the one containing the news about my being in Hufflepuff, hadn't elicited more than a one line, "Good for you, Libby, but be careful" response.

In the corner, Hermione finally put down her book, and she and Harry started in our direction. "OK, everyone," called Hermione, clapping her hands. "I know we're all glad to see each other after the holidays, but we've got a lot of work to do." With good-natured jostling, the students formed a circle and the chattering quieted.

"Today I thought we'd start on shielding charms," said Harry, and I got the impression he'd never gotten used to being the center of attention, Chosen One or not. Harry then demonstrated the spell, explaining the correct pronunciation (pro-TAY-go) and wand movement. Then, he erected one and invited the watching students to throw spells at him, starting with the simpler jinxes and hexes. Fred and George immediately began bombarding Harry's shield with some hexes that I recognized (nose-enlarging, hair-turning, and disorienting hexes) and a whole lot more I'd never heard of. Finally, they admitted defeat, looking impressed.

"This shield should ward off the most jinxes and hexes with no problems," Harry explained. "But in a real battle, Death Eaters won't be using the Tickling Charm. Their spells are designed to kill, and if this shield can give you any advantage whatsoever, it's worth it."

Then, Hannah stepped forward to throw a body-binding curse at Harry's shield. No effect. A couple of Ravenclaws I didn't recognize tried next. "That's an _Impedimenta _and an _Expelliarmus . . ._" Justin told me, but I waved him off.

"I know."

"You do?" He sounded surprised.

"Don't forget, I learned Defense from Remus Lupin," I said with a smile. Justin looked a little put off.

Harry's shield didn't break until Ginny tried a stunner. Then it shattered and fell to pieces, almost like a broken glass, and Harry leapt out of the way of the well-aimed _Stupefy_ spell. "Good, good!" said Harry, eying Ginny appreciatively. Even _I_ had a new respect for the girl and her magical power which was way, _way_ above my own. I sighed.

"That was well done, Ginny," continued Harry, and she smiled as she rejoined the group of Ravenclaws. Michael Corner was there—I'd just noticed. "But we need to work on the power the rest of you are putting behind your spells. Ideally, that very first spell should be the one that breaks the shield. But if you're on the defensive end of things, it's important to know how to construct a shield that _will_ hold out for more than just a spell or two."

He showed us a couple more times, having Ginny cast the spells at his shield. Then, he clapped his hands. "All right. Split up into groups of two and practice the shield. Libby," he said, stopping me. "You can go with Neville. He doesn't have a partner yet."

Justin, who'd stepped forward, most likely to volunteer to pair up with me, looked angry, but he kept his mouth shut.

The group of students separated, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the room with a tall, sandy-haired boy who was a little on the round side. He grinned sheepishly at me, and suddenly I recognized him. It was the boy who'd pulled me out of the way of the cross fire, that time when a fight between Gryffindors and Slytherins had broken out in the upper corridor.

"You!"

"You," said Neville, looking surprised and flustered. "You're the new student, the one who about got knocked out by Slytherin spells last term."

"And you're my knight in shining armor," I said, grinning.

Neville laughed, blushing a little. "Hardly. And in a minute you'll wish you had Justin as a partner rather than me." He sounded glum. "I can't cast defensive spells to save my life."

"Well, however bad you are, you can't be worse than me. I don't even know a spell I can throw at you so you can practice your shield."

"I do know the Body-Binding curse," Neville offered hesitantly. "Maybe I could teach you that. Then you can practice it while I try out my shield."

It took twenty minute for me to master _Petrificus Totalis_, but Neville was a patient teacher. I got the impression that spells were just as difficult for him as me, and for some reason, having someone who had struggled to master the spell teach me helped a lot. He was able to break the spell down to me, explaining the minutest details such as how my hand grip affected the wand motion and how my tone and volume affected the spoken spell. His tutelage combined with Luna's earlier tips made learning the spell not nearly as long and difficult a process as I was used to. I was ecstatic.

"Petrificus Totalis," I finally cried, and suddenly Neville froze; legs and arms snapped together as he tumbled to the floor and landed with a resonating thud.

I stared, horrified. "Neville? Neville!"

Only his eyes were moving, but he seemed to be laughing at me. I turned back around, scanning the room. "Someone, help!"

Harry was just two pairs away, and he came dashing over. "Good job, Libby," he said when he saw Neville on the floor.

"I don't know how to reverse it," I cried, wringing my hands, and Harry laughed.

"Finite Incantium," he said, and Neville stiffly pulled himself off the floor.

"I'm so sorry!" I apologized immediately, but he waved me away.

"No, no. That was the whole point," said Neville, grinning. "Now let me try my shield."

I cast spells at Neville for the rest of the time, while he worked on his shield. I hit him four more times, and after a few tries, I was able to master the reversal spell as well. By the time the practice session was over, Neville's shield was constant, if not as strong as it should've been.

"Next week, Tuesday night," shouted Harry over the din as students laughed and chatted, dispersing at their leisure.

I turned back to Neville, who was shifting nervously from one foot to another. "Hey, thanks for helping me with the spell."

He reddened. "No problem," he muttered, and I turned to go. "Hey, Libby?"

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if . . . well, I mean, you probably would rather get someone like Hermione or Harry—they're the spell geniuses around here, but . . ."

I frowned. "Just spit it out."

"I thought, maybe if you wanted to catch up, we could practice spells . . . I know a few I can teach you . . . but I don't know all of them, so you should get someone better . . ."

"I'd love to practice spells with you," I said, smiling widely.

Neville turned pink. "Really? Are you sure?"

I shrugged. "Hermione's already helping me with everything else," I said, frowning. "I'd hate to ask her to do something else on top of all that. And I don't know Harry that well—but I'll bet he's too busy with running the DA to give out private tutoring sessions."

Neville looked pleased. "Next week? Maybe Sunday night?"

I grinned. "Perfect."

Justin suddenly appeared at my side and slung an arm around my shoulder. "So, Libby, how'd it go?"

"Great! Neville helped me learn _Petrificus Totalis._" I was painfully aware of his arm around me. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"Longbottom?" Justin said skeptically, looking Neville up and down.

I frowned and shrugged Justin's arm off my shoulder. "Neville helped me a lot. Really. I couldn't have done with it without him."

Justin didn't look convinced. "Whatever you say. Hey, we're heading back to the dorms now. Are you coming?"

I looked reluctantly over at Neville, but I wasn't sure if I could find my own common room from here—I'd probably get stuck permanently in limbo on the third or fourth floor (where the staircases and passageways were most confusing). "Yeah," I said at last, smiling apologetically at Neville.

"You got Longbottom for a partner? That rotten luck," commented Justin on our way down the stairs. Hannah and Ernie had fallen a little behind, involved in their own conversation.

"Why?"

"Everyone knows he's rubbish at casting spells," stated Justin, as if it were common knowledge. "Too bad you couldn't have been paired with me. I could've shown you some pretty good spells."

I knew he was bluffing—I'd seen him struggling with his own shield out of the corner of my eye as Neville and I had been practicing, but I didn't want to anger him. I needed all the friends in Hufflepuff I could get. Most of the other students hadn't been nearly as nice to me as he'd been—aside for Stella, of course. And the prefects, but that was sort of their job. I merely said, "Hmmm," and kept my mouth shut.

I wondered how angry Justin would be if he discovered I'd agreed to practice spells with Neville after hours.

**A/N: Spring Break has arrived, and most of mine has been spent studying for my upcoming N-CLEX—but I did find a bit of time to throw together a chapter for you all. Many thousands of apologies for the long wait.**


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